


No Guts, No Glory

by fatalfaery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalfaery/pseuds/fatalfaery
Summary: The tale of the Marauders, from Sirius Black's perspective.
Relationships: Andromeda Black Tonks/Ted Tonks, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I’m fascinated by Sirius Black. He was, by far, my absolute favourite character growing up reading the Harry Potter series. He’s a ball of contradictions. I wanted to get under his skin and try to explain, mainly to myself, how someone who grew up in such a prejudiced household changed his world views so dramatically - so much so that when he left school he actively fought against the prejudices, and people, he grew up amongst. 
> 
> This story, I imagine, will be incredibly long and quite a slow burn. If I can probably explain something in one sentence, I choose to explain it in a paragraph - I’m far too verbose for my own good. 
> 
> Just a warning that while I rely heavily on the original text, this fic is not 100% canon accurate - particularly in regards to the age of all the Black cousins. In the books, the Black sisters are supposed to be a few years older than Sirius and Regulus, however I have imagined here that Bellatrix is only a year older than Sirius, Andromeda and Sirius are the same age and Narcissa is only a year younger, but the same age as Regulus.

**_Prologue_**

_Friday 22nd August 1975_

The quill hovered, poised expectantly, over the parchment. Sirius, however, stared blankly ahead; lost for the words he knew he ought to write. 

There was no remorse. He felt nothing. But why should he? When he had wanted something… _longed_ for something, even planned it… 

All of it seemed so inevitable, now. 

Sheets of rain were lashing against the window pane above the writing desk and the view of grey, sprawling London before him looked remarkably bleak. He felt incredibly small and much younger than his sixteen years in that moment. 

A single drop of jet-black ink blotched the parchment his quill continued to float above… and, well. Sirius thought better of it, altogether. 

He crumpled the soiled parchment in his hand angrily; then, as if that motion did not demonstrate his restless rage effectively enough, he violently tore the parchment clean in two. He didn’t owe any of them an explanation. _Any_ of them. The tatters of the would-be-letter floated slowly down to settle on the highly-polished wooden floorboards, besides his highly-polished dress shoes. 

Sirius stared at his feet, wondering absentmindedly despite all the enormity of the circumstances, if he ought to change into trainers… but then, the fleeting thought had left and it was all too late. Too late for explanations, at any rate. 

He heard the unmistakable squeal - a sound that he was now well accustomed to listening out for as a warning - of the ancient staircase several floors below, straining under the weight of his Father, who was furiously thundering upstairs towards him. 

Forced into action by the imminent arrival of Orion Black, Sirius grabbed his _Cleansweep_ , threw open the window and clambered on top of the writing desk and crawled out onto the window ledge. Cold rain splattered his face, soaking his dress robes through instantly. He shivered as he looked down into the garden far below and gulped, almost wishing he hadn’t dared look; he’d never been particularly fond of heights and often wondered how James made flying on a broomstick 50 feet in the air look easy. 

He exhaled shakily, blood thundering in his ears as the adrenalin mounted. This was it. Something he’d been dreaming about, both consciously and unconsciously, for years. He couldn’t lose his nerve now; he wouldn’t let himself miss this opportunity. Sirius steeled himself and a look of grim determination settled onto his face. 

He was going to escape. 

He slung a leg over his broomstick and splayed a hand against his side, double-checking his robe pocket for the treasures he couldn’t leave behind - his wand, the two-way mirror, the letters, postcards, battered notebook and the crumpled picture… 

The door of his bedroom burst open behind him and his Father, an apoplectic expression twisting his features, jabbed his wand towards Sirius viciously, 

_“Incarcerous!”_

But... Orion was too late. 

Sirius had launched off onto his broomstick, ducking the hex and refusing to look back. He urged his _Cleansweep_ higher, so he could disappear out of sight into the thick, swirling clouds above. Though the wind and the rain screamed in his ears, drowning out all other noise, Sirius couldn’t help but hear his Father’s strangled, desperate yell of, 

_**“COME BACK!”**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ♡ I plan to update this fic every two weeks or so with a new chapter.


	2. Aunt Belvina's Portrait

_Tuesday 31st August 1971_

It had been a wet, cold and miserable summer. 

Miserable, because the appalling weather had dictated that the children weren’t allowed out of doors. They’d spent the majority of the summer months cooped-up together - getting on each other's nerves - in the palatial nursery of Black manor. 

The children were all far too old to be resigned to a nursery, but the Black elders had a draconian view on child-rearing; children were meant to be seen (on occasion) and definitely _not_ heard. The nursery was situated in the east wing of Cygnus and Druella’s manor house, far removed from the main thoroughfare, so the children were mainly left to their own devices all summer. And that was how the Black children liked it. Infact, Sirius usually looked forward to the summer months for that very reason - as each year it meant a lengthy stay with his cousins, either at their manor in the English countryside or at his parent's château in the south of France. Either way, it meant his tutors and dull lessons and horrible Kreacher were all left behind in London; summer was always a welcome escape from Grimmauld Place. 

Summer was usually such a splendid affair at his cousin's manor home as there was so much to _do_ ; there was a lake with a small jetty which the cousins would all jump off and splash around in, an orchard in the grounds full of excellent climbing trees and large, sloping lawns they’d roll down or set-up for games of Quidditch or magical croquet. The cousins would wile away the summer months, chasing each other outside for hours on end playing make-believe. Bellatrix, as the eldest and natural leader of the group, would dictate the activities the cousins would play each day and would often spend hours making up elaborate rules they’d all have to abide by. Andromeda, who was Sirius’s age, was always giggling and had a habit of managing to get Sirius to show-off and do even more daring and silly things. Narcissa, who played the part of a fragile, china doll for her Mother’s benefit, was actually the most athletic of the bunch and could do an impressive back-flip off the jetty and could always climb the highest in the trees. Even Regulus, Sirius’s quiet, little brother, wasn’t so shy when surrounded by all the fun. One could even go so far as to say Regulus could be _boisterous_ , when away from all the adults. 

But now that summer was waning and as they had been stuck inside together for weeks on end, stifling boredom had taken over. There were only so many times you could play Exploding Snap or Spot the Snargaluff with your cousins without losing your rag, rather. And Sirius was getting towards the end of his tether. 

“It’s your turn…” 

Andromeda mutterly glumly, as her Queen’s side Castle moved forward several squares to advance upon Sirius’s unprotected King. She was clearly so past the point of tedium, that it took her a few moments to register that she’d actually made quite a good move, 

“Oh… I think you’re in check?” 

Sirius rolled his eyes and conceded defeat by knocking his King over, much to the displeasure of his chess pieces. One of his Knight’s even squealed, _“What, you’re giving up that easily?!”_

He scowled darkly, then flopped backwards on the velvet chaise lounge he’d been perched on and stared moodily up at the ceiling, where a magnificent chandelier glittered overhead. Thunder rumbled outside and the heavy rain continued to beat against the large series of majestic windows opposite. From somewhere on the many silk pillows littering the floor, Andromeda yawned and added, 

“I suppose that’s best of 5, then.” 

She proceeded to start packing away the chess pieces, many of whom refused to be shoved away in their box without protest ( _“He shouldn’t have conceded defeat so easily, his Queen was still in play!”_ ). Sirius supposed it was quite considerate of Andromeda to overlook his lack of sportsmanship. Or maybe it was just that she was so thoroughly used to his impermeable gloominess by now - it was a known fact that Sirius didn’t handle boredom well. 

Regulus seized the chance to question, now that Andromeda was free to play with him instead, 

“Andie? Would you like to play Gobstones with me?” 

Andromeda sounded incredibly hesitant and didn’t look up as she continued struggling with a rather feisty Bishop piece, 

“I’m a bit tired of board games Regulus… why don’t you play with Cissy?” 

Narcissa had been lying flat on her stomach, her legs crossed at the ankle in the air, utterly absorbed by a _Witch Weekly_ her Mother had discarded. She perked up somewhat at the sound of her name and glanced at her older sister, 

“Hmmm?” 

Andromeda tutted impatiently, although she’d now succeeded in finally shoving all the rogue chess pieces away, 

“Would you like to play Gobstones with Regulus?” 

Narcissa made a grand show of hoisting herself off the ground and smoothing down her pale green frock, before responding self-importantly, 

“Why not? It’s not as though I have anything better to do.” 

Regulus beamed in response, thrilled that one of his cousins would condescend to play with him. He immediately and eagerly started setting up the antique, solid-gold Gobstones board where the Chess board had been moments earlier. 

Sirius snorted. 

Narcissa huffed as she folded herself delicately opposite Regulus, taking great personal offence to the derision in Sirius’s snort, 

“Well! It’s not as though _you’re_ proposing we do anything fun!” 

Sirius sat up to glare at his youngest cousin. 

The trouble was, he _had_ proposed a great number of fun and daring things to do to pass the time, but nobody was game enough to do them. He’d been harping on about one thing in particular, for a number of days now… 

“You seem to have forgotten but I’ve had a _million_ absolutely brilliant suggestions of fun things to do, which all you _whiny babies_ have shouted down-” 

He paused, before ploughing ahead with,

“- so, I’ll ask again. Why don’t we break into Uncle Cygnus’s study and grab mine and Andromeda’s wands from the safe that’s hidden behind that portrait of Aunt Belvina, and then we can-” 

Sirius was cut-off by both Regulus and Narcissa, who spoke at the same time in identically shrill tones. 

Narcissa shrieked, “I said something _fun!_ Defying Father is not _fun!_ ” 

While Regulus cried, “Sirius, it’s _illegal_ for underage wizards to perform magic!” 

Andromeda had moved to stand by the window closest to where the children had been playing and was, at present, looking outside into the gloom rather forlornly. It looked as though the storm was worsening. She turned back and caught Sirius’s eye and offered him a small, sad shrug. 

Sirius knew that out of all of his cousins, Andromeda would probably be the most game to do something as reckless as breaking into Cygnus’s study. After all, her wand had been hidden away, too. But if even _she_ was refusing to go along with it - then the idea was obviously dead in the water. 

Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms irritably. _It wasn’t fair!_ He’d _finally_ been “of age” to possess his own magic wand… but no sooner had the wandmaker Ollivander arrived by private appointment to the manor and a _beautiful_ , glossy, 10 inch, Ebony and Dragon heartstring wand chosen him, when the wand was promptly whisked out of sight. Locked up somewhere beyond his reach. It was _maddening_. 

Narcissa declared in her aggravatingly supercilious manner (that, _really_ , was far too mature an attitude for a ten year old), 

“You don’t even _know_ if the wands are in Father’s study, anyway.” 

Sirius countered in a tetchy voice, 

“Of _course_ they are. I’ve searched everywhere else.” 

Narcissa didn’t appear bothered by Sirius’s increasingly bad temper, she merely replied, 

“You can’t have possibly searched _everywhere_. We’re not even allowed in certain parts of the house. We’re _supposed_ to stay in the east wing-” 

Sirius grunted, 

“As if that’s ever stopped me before.” 

Narcissa ignored this interruption, 

“-and anyway, nobody knows this house better than Bella. I’m sure she knows where her wand is locked up. You and Andie should really ask her for help if you want to find your wands.” 

Sirius snorted again. 

As the first of September approached, Sirius’s older cousin Bellatrix had begun acting even more irritating than what was her usual level of vexation. Bellatrix had been at Hogwarts for a whole year previously and was looking forward to returning to start her second year at the school - which, of course, meant that she was, by all accounts, a _bonafide expert_ on all things Hogwarts. 

Bella, for as long as Sirius could wrack his brains to remember, had always conducted herself in an infuriatingly superior manner. She loved nothing more than to laud things over people and act supremely clever - most especially if it meant belittling her siblings and cousins. She especially liked knowing things that Sirius didn’t, as there’d always been a competitive undercurrent to their relationship. So, she had taken to waltzing around with a smug, knowing grin plastered all over her face and would drop tantalising comments to Sirius and Andromeda like, _“I hope you’re both ready for the sorting ceremony. I heard they’ve imported a really nasty beast from Siberia for you to battle-”_ and _“If you’re not able to master a few charms in your first week, they break your wand! That’s how they know if you’re a squib.”_

Of course, such comments often resulted in the desired effect. Andromeda would turn a shade paler with worry and Sirius just ended up feeling annoyed. 

Unlike most of the other pureblood children his age, Sirius wasn’t looking forward to starting boarding school. Of course, he was _thrilled_ he was getting some respite away from his parents, tutors and Kreacher - at least until Christmas - but the whole Hogwarts ordeal seemed to him to be swapping one set of rules and responsibilities for another. He had to live up to his parent’s expectations quietly whilst at home, but now with school looming, he had to live up to _everyone else’s_ expectations of being the ‘Black Heir’, in a very public way. Everyone was looking to him to live up to his name and his birthright. 

It was daunting… and, if he was being honest with himself, he was nervous. Not because of all the things Bellatrix said, (although he _really_ hoped he didn’t have to battle any sort of Siberian beast in front of a crowd) but because he really didn’t know what to expect, and that frightened him. He was used to being lord of the manor at home, with servants and tutors heeding his every whim and acquiescing to his unruly antics. He didn’t imagine the same rebellions would be tolerated at Hogwarts and he was nervous of being under a magnifying glass. 

“I’m not asking Bella for help with anything. She is a _pain in my ass!_ ” 

Sirius declared very forcefully. He couldn’t help but grin somewhat perversely as both Regulus and Narcissa looked utterly scandalised at his casual use of the word ‘ass’. Andromeda, who’d walked over to rejoin the group, tried to stifle a giggle. 

“Charming, dear cousin.” 

Bellatrix had chosen that exact moment to enter the nursery. 

She didn’t look offended or even upset by Sirius’s choice of words; indeed, there was a wicked smirk on her face. She looked pleased about something - which Sirius knew by now only meant _trouble_. Sirius also noticed that she was also holding a large, slightly decrepit-looking book behind her back. 

When she wasn’t berating her cousins and siblings, Bella had been spending an inordinate amount of time in the Library that summer, pouring over old, musty books. Sirius didn’t understand the sudden fascination Bellatrix had developed with mouldy books that didn’t look like they’d been touched for centuries. It was Andromeda who was the notorious bookworm, certainly not Bellatrix. 

Sirius wouldn’t ever admit it outloud but he’d missed Bella an awful lot when she’d gone away to school. He had been left with nobody to pick fights or rough-house with, which had been incredibly boring. He’d tried to wrestle with Regulus a few times, but the boy had ended up crying - and there wasn’t any fun in being reprimanded by house-elves. 

Bella folded herself neatly onto the chaise lounge beside Sirius, shoving the fusty book under a large, silk pillow, out of sight. She turned to Sirius, her grey eyes alight with curiosity, 

“So? Why do you need my help?” 

Sirius’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and he answered his cousin’s question with one of his own, 

“What’s that book?” 

Bellatrix batted his question away with a wave of her hand, as though she was swotting away a fly, 

“None of your business. Why do you need my help?” 

Before Sirius could interrogate Bellatrix further about the mysterious book, or indeed her new-found fondness of the Library, Regulus answered from the floor where he was still assembling the now-forgotten Gobstones game board, 

“He wants to try and find his wand.” 

Sirius rounded on his brother with a fearsome glare, which made Regulus squeak and avert his eyes. Sirius cried melodramatically, 

“ _Traitor!_ ” 

Which caused Bellatrix to laugh heartily; her dark, black curls quivered in impish delight. After she’d finished laughing, she replied loftily, 

“Oh, I already _know_ where all our wands are hidden.” 

Narcissa made a face at Sirius and couldn’t help but interject a childish, 

“See! _I told you_ she’d know.” 

Sirius scowled at Narcissa, whilst Andromeda asked curiously, 

“Where? Are they in Father’s study? In the safe behind Aunt Belvina’s portrait?” 

Bellatrix sniggered, her tone deliberately vexing as she sing-songed, 

_“Oh-why-oh-why-should-I-tell-you?”_

Sirius, thoroughly irritated now, replied to Andromeda savagely, 

“She _doesn’t_ know. She’s just pretending to be clever.” 

Bellatrix giggled, her eyes alight and twinkling, 

“I don’t need to pretend, cousin mine. I _am_ clever. And I know exactly where all our wands are.” 

Sirius snapped, his voice raised, 

“Well then, why haven’t you gotten yours? Why don’t you have it on you? It’s because you don’t know where they are! So _stop lying!_ ” 

Bellatrix just smiled enigmatically, 

“What’s to say I haven’t got my wand in my pocket?” 

This brought Sirius up short, as he eyed his cousin's dress pockets. Surely her dress wasn’t deep enough to conceal a wand? 

Narcissa’s grey eyes widened and she spoke in a whispered undertone, 

“Bella… you… you haven’t been _using_ magic, have you?” 

Bellatrix continued to grin mysteriously. She had a captive audience now, with all of her cousins and siblings staring at her in disbelief, so she savoured the moment by taking an agonisingly long time to respond. 

“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t…” 

Sirius rolled his eyes and cried forcefully, 

“She **hasn’t!** She’s just trying to act like she is a grown-up! Can’t you all see that she’s lying? The ministry of magic would _know_ if-” 

“Aha!” 

Bellatrix’s grey eyes continued to sparkle, 

“See, but that’s where you’re wrong. They _wouldn’t_ know. Their detective enchantments aren’t specialised enough to be able to tell if the magic produced is from a wand or not. The ministry is lenient towards children who do magic and can’t control it because they don’t know any better-” 

She cast a significant look at Regulus at this point. Sirius wondered whether this was because Regulus, being only nine years old, was considered something of an infant in comparison to Bellatrix’s _very mature_ , nearly-thirteen years of age. Or - and Sirius considered this option much more likely - Bellatrix’s look of derision was due to the recent incident where Regulus had inadvertently exploded a plate of melting meringues one of their house elves, Enderby, had delivered to the nursery, as he’d been annoyed that Sirius and Bellatrix had refused to include him in their arm-wrestling match. But Sirius was hardly going to include him in rough-housing, after he’d cried to a servant that other time - was he? 

Regulus blushed, whilst Bellatrix continued, 

“-and we have an advantage anyway, as there’s so many of us. The ministry nitwits get confused if you’re from a magical home and there’s lots of magic occurring constantly.” 

She finished triumphantly and not even Sirius could find the words to counter her logic. It was clear she’d spent a lot of time thinking through the potential loopholes of the Trace charm. He didn’t know whether to admire his cousin for her ingenuity or be unnerved by her willingness to flout international magical law. 

Narcissa broke the silence after an extended pause, her voice still laced with worry, 

“Bella… it doesn’t matter if you’re able to ‘get away with it’ and fool people at the ministry. You’re still doing something illegal. And _dangerous_. Besides, if the parents found out...” 

Bellatrix poked her tongue out at her youngest sister, 

“Stop being such a stick in the mud, Cissy! Otherwise I’ll never tell you all where Sirius and Andromeda’s wands are hidden.” 

Sirius rounded on Bellatrix, seizing the moment to question, 

“And which is _where_ , exactly?” 

Bellatrix merely mimed locking her lips and then throwing away the key. 

Sirius had had enough. He’d reached the _definite_ end of his tether. He grabbed the silk pillow Bellatrix was using to hide her rotting, peculiar book under and - without thinking of the consequences - whacked her over the head with it. 

Bellatrix sat stunned for a moment. A split second later an enormous smirk altered her aristocratic features, as she moved to retaliate. 

She lunged for Sirius, springing forth with the agility of a cat, and had Sirius pinned under the weight of her body, with her knees digging into his torso, in mere moments. She cackled wildly as she proceeded to start _pinching_ , _poking_ , _tickling_ and _scratching_ any part of Sirius she came across, while Sirius writhed in displeasure underneath and attempted to shove her bodily off him. He couldn’t help the nearly-identical-to-Bellatrix’s smirk from appearing and twisting his lips upwards, however - he missed rough-housing with Bella. 

The nursery erupted in shrieks and jeers, as all the cousins became involved in the play fight. Narcissa, who had jumped to her feet to watch the brawl closer, accidentally trod on a Gobstone in her haste - which instantly exploded and squirted it’s green, foul smelling gunge directly in Regulus’s face.

Regulus screamed in anguish as his face was entirely covered in gunk - which interrupted proceedings immediately. Bellatrix collapsed backwards away from Sirius, shaking with laughter. Sirius too caught the giggles, as Regulus continued to shriek. Andromeda was sniggering hopelessly from behind her cupped hands and Narcissa - the only one of them to remain sensible (although she too had dissolved into laughter) - kindly offered Regulus the sleeve of her jumper to clean himself up. 

The door to the nursery snapped open rather suddenly and Walburga and Orion Black strode through, deigning the children with their presence. 

All five of the cousins stood to attention at once, all laughter and joviality instantly forgotten. 

Quick attempts were made by all the children to smooth down clothes, unruly hair and to try to look somewhat presentable and as though they hadn’t just been wrestling and laughing boisterously. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius could see Regulus nervously trying to wipe the green gunk out of his face and smear it on the cuffs of his shirt sleeves. 

It’d been nearly three months since Sirius and Regulus had seen their Mother and Father in person, but one would hardly know it. Walburga’s angular and perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in disgust as she appraised her youngest son - who, unfortunately, was still covered in slime. It was even dripping in great, congealed globs onto the carpet and silk pillows below. 

“Children.” 

Walburga announced in greeting, her clipped tone characteristically cold and disapproving. Her grey eyes were fixed on the sticky, green mess that had matted in Regulus’s hair. 

The children nodded their heads in solemn deference and said in practised, automated unison, 

“Good afternoon.” 

Orion regarded the brood with his usual haughty expression, tutting somewhat as he surveyed Regulus’s appearance. His lip curled with disdain, 

“Regulus- have a house-elf clean you up at once. Sirius- you are to follow me to your Uncle Cygnus’s study. That will be all.” 

Regulus’s cheeks blushed a mortified pink as he managed to mumble a humiliated, “Sorry Father”, before running from the room in search of a servant. 

Sirius, equal parts curious and equal parts trepidatious, braced himself as he followed his Father from the nursery. He resolutely avoided the confused looks his cousins shot his way as he walked past all three of them. 

There wasn’t any chatter between Father and Son as they travelled the elaborately ornate, empty halls - but Sirius hadn’t expected there would be. He could count the amount of times on one hand that he’d been summoned to speak privately with his Father in his whole, _entire_ life and, generally speaking, he was only ever brought before the man to be disciplined. 

Orion’s heels clicked along the polished floor whilst Sirius trailed behind him, and the noise mirrored the staccato beat of Sirius’s heart. He wondered, terrified now as Uncle Cygnus’s study door loomed into view, what he could have possibly done that could warrant his Father singling him out and asking to speak to him alone. Had his Father overheard the children’s earlier conversation about wands? Did Orion somehow know that Sirius had had a half-baked notion to break into Cygnus’s study and rescue his and Andromeda’s wands? Was he being punished for even _thinking_ about doing that? 

Orion stalked ahead, officious and all-business as he settled himself behind his brother-in-law’s embellished desk. Sirius, unable to think of a way to excuse himself from the room - let alone the situation - closed the study door behind him, feeling very much like a trapped and cornered animal. 

Sirius hovered by the door (and only means of escape) with an expression of total bewilderment, until Orion gestured for his son to move further into the depths of the room, 

“Sit.” 

Sirius obeyed immediately, seating himself on one of the plush, leather chairs in front of the ornamented desk. He averted his eyes deliberately and tried his best to arrange his expression from looking panicked and uncertain to looking somewhat contrite - incase he’d have to deny anything. He braced himself, trying not to physically wince, as Orion broke the silence, 

“Your Mother and I will be accompanying you to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters tomorrow morning.” 

Sirius looked up despite himself, totally startled. This wasn’t _at all_ the direction he’d thought the conversation would take. 

The portrait of Aunt Belvina (which concealed Cygnus’s safe) glared down at her relatives sternly. Although the Black family were widely noted for their patrician, aristocratic good looks, Belvina had been known in her youth as a raven-haired enchantress of unparalleled and unrivalled beauty. The portrait which hung in Cygnus's study captured her youthful looks but the stern look she wore while appraising Sirius did her no credit, whatsoever. Sirius often thought she looked a lot like Andromeda.

Sirius did a few mental somersaults as he processed his Father's statement… this didn’t _at all_ fit in with what he’d expected. Last year, Bellatrix was only accompanied to Kings Cross station by a house-elf. Sirius hadn’t thought about it much but he’d imagined he and Andromeda would be sent off to school in the same, unceremonious manner. 

Orion absentmindedly fiddled with the large, ostentatious gold ring on his right index finger. It was the Black Family crest, a revered heirloom that Sirius knew someday he’d end up wearing. Once his Father was dead. Sirius didn't like to look at it. 

Orion gazed at Sirius with intense, yet somehow entirely indifferent scrutiny; it was in the same vein that Sirius imagined Orion would approach surveying an important investment portfolio. Sirius was Orion's personal “investment”, to be sure, but not one that required a great deal of emotion. 

“You’re surprised?” Orion asked bluntly, his pale grey eyes boring down upon his son. 

Sirius nodded politely and added a quiet, yet deferential, 

“Yes, sir.” 

Orion stood up from behind the desk; physically standing over Sirius, who had nowhere left to look but to meet his Father’s sweeping gaze. 

“You’re the heir to the _Most Noble and Ancient House of Black._ ” 

There was a grave sort of reverence in Orion’s voice, 

“It's important that your Mother and I see you off at the platform. That we portray a united front, farewelling our heir." 

Sirius listened intently, as his Father continued, 

"The way you conduct yourself during your time at Hogwarts is of tremendous importance. You’re to remember your lessons to uphold our sacred traditions and you shall behave in a manner that is befitting your name. _Toujours Pur._ Remembering our family words, your place in society and your responsibilities is crucial and will guide your choices.” 

Orion paused emphatically, before adding, 

“As you know, your Great-Aunt Cassiopeia is on the board of governors at Hogwarts. I shall be asking her to keep a particularly close-eye on you over the coming months and reporting back her findings.” 

The speech ended ominously and Sirius hitched a breath. Great-Aunt Cassiopeia wasn’t as terrifying as some of his other elderly relatives (Grandmother Irma was _easily_ the most frightening person he’d ever encountered in his entire life, including his Mother), but he would hate to get on the wrong side of her. She was strict and stern and having her reporting his movements back to his Father was definitely a scary prospect, nonetheless. 

Orion continued, his loud voice ringing throughout the study and into the halls beyond, 

“I will **not tolerate** any fraternising with mudbloods, blood traitors or squibs. Do you understand me, child?” 

Sirius nodded, frightened by the unadulterated revulsion in his Father’s voice. Sirius was equally as repulsed at the thought of having to be in close proximity with mudbloods after everything he had heard about them from his parents and other adults over the course of his life - there was no chance he would actively be seeking any _out._

Orion changed tact somewhat, apparently quelled by his son’s obedience, 

“Of course, Slytherin house doesn’t abide with _abominations._ You won’t need to mingle with the riff-raff, there. There’s at least _some_ semblance of purity and magical tradition within that school, despite the best efforts of the halfwit Dumbledore... essentially, you won’t need to worry about mudbloods in Slytherin.” 

Sirius nodded again and repeated duteously, 

“Yes, sir.” 

The ghost of a smile lingered around Orion’s lips, 

“You’ll enjoy your time in Slytherin, boy. You’ll be joined by your cousins and you’ll honour a grand family tradition. Black’s have been in Slytherin house since the 16th century. It is one of our proudest legacies. Why, your Mother and I both thoroughly enjoyed our time in Salazaar’s house. Infact, I imagine you should be awarded Slytherin Prefect in your fifth year… yes-” 

Orion’s eyes glazed over as he schemed and planned away his son’s future, 

“- and of course, it’s important to excel in all your classes. Being a Black is synonymous with magical superiority. You know what that means, child?” 

Orion rounded on Sirius rather abruptly, who quivered slightly before attempting an answer, 

“Black’s get Outstandings?” 

Orion nodded, appeased, 

“Exactly so.” 

The middle aged man continued to fiddle absentmindedly with the Black Crested ring, as he stared at his eldest son. Orion held Sirius in his gaze for a prolonged moment, before he stood up and walked over to the portrait of Aunt Belvina. 

He pulled his wand out of his robes and tapped the gilded edge of the painting, which then immediately swung forth to reveal his brother-in-law’s safe. Orion tapped the safe and muttered a few secretive and whispered incantations and the safe magically sprung open. 

In amongst the glittering gems, shining gold and other fascinating objects Sirius would have _loved_ to inspect further or get his hands on - were three wands. There was a 12¾ inch, Walnut and Dragon heartstring wand (Bellatrix’s), a 9 inch, Vine and Phoenix Feather wand (Andromeda’s) and Sirius’s own - the glossy, black Ebony wand, which seemed to be calling to him from the room, practically _humming_ in anticipation. Orion walked across the expanse of the study and to Sirius’s total elation and surprise, his Father handed him all three wands. 

“You’re permitted to have your wand back for tonight. You can pass these two over to your cousins. Remember, you’re not allowed to perform any magic under your Uncle’s roof. And your Mother would greatly disapprove of the fact that these wands are being returned to you slightly early. But-” 

Orion paused and there seemed to be something of the barest hint of mischief in his voice, 

“-what your Mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her. This shall be our little secret.” 

Sirius hadn’t felt happier in weeks. _Sharing a secret with Father!_ He was positively _giddy_ with glee. This conversation alone was worth putting up with months of being trapped inside and monotonous hours of Gobstones. 

He grinned up at his Father and Orion managed a cheerful smile in return. It was fleeting, but Sirius forced himself to commit the expression to memory. Orion wasn’t the type of man to smile often. 

Orion sternly added, the smile gone and the usual haughty expression again affixed in place, 

“Remember what I said, Sirius. _Toujours Pur._ Now run along back to the nursery.” 

Sirius nodded, still smiling hugely. He skipped the whole way back to the nursery, almost bowling over a few house-elves along the way. 

Another happy thought had occurred to him as he sauntered through the nursery door and he had to stop himself from laughing outright. 

Regulus was nowhere to be seen and his Mother, fortunately, had also vacated the nursery. His three cousins however were still present. They were all sitting together on the floor, black, brown and blonde heads of hair bowed together in mid conversation - but they all paused as Sirius returned. He ran over to them, triumphantly holding all three wands aloft. 

His cousins all gasped and Sirius shouted joyfully, 

“I **KNEW** you were lying, Bellatrix!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cygnus and Druella's country manor looks a lot like Waddesdon Manor in my mind (what with it's Neo-Renaissance style reminiscent of a French château). I also imagine Aunt Belvina looks a bit like the 1940s actress Gene Tierney (yes, I am thinking about that enigmatic portrait in Laura!).


	3. Scourgify, Bertie Botts and the “M word”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Liberal use of the word "mudblood" and a few swear words. Also warning - Sirius is a snooty, little so and so at this age (he's a product of his environment!).
> 
> Parts of this chapter are taken/reference heavily Chapter 33: 'The Prince’s Tale' from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

_Wednesday 1st September 1971_

Sirius didn’t see his parents again until he was summoned to the red drawing room, at a little after 10 o’clock the next morning. The red drawing room was his Aunt Druella’s absolute favourite room in the entire estate - it was grandiose in the extreme, with sumptuous, red silk lining the walls and gold furnishings lavishly and opulantly adorning every fixture - which was why Sirius had only been in the room a few times in living memory. Children strictly _weren’t_ allowed - lest their sticky, unkempt fingers sully everything. 

Sirius followed his cousins into the drawing room, while his stomach churned uncomfortably with nerves. Uncle Cygnus, Aunt Druella, his Father and Mother stood in a line, waiting for him, Andromeda and Bellatrix, all with expectant expressions. It was rather intimidating, facing the adults in a group like that - especially when children and adults alike had spent the summer avoiding each other’s company - and Sirius suddenly felt very relieved he had his cousins on either side of him. There was safety in numbers. 

Sirius could feel his Mother’s eyes from across the room raking over his appearance, trying to look for imperfections, so that she could point them out in front of everybody. He nervously smoothed down his white shirt and smart travelling cloak, not wanting to give her any ammunition. 

Cygnus was the first to break the tense silence, 

“Daughters - your Uncle Orion and Aunt Walburga will be apparating with you to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters this morning.” 

Uncle Cygnus wasn’t to know, of course, but this information didn’t come as news to Bellatrix or Andromeda. As soon as Sirius had remerged in the nursery yesterday afternoon, he’d told his cousins (and Regulus when he’d eventually rejoined the group, slime-free) all about his conversation with his Father. 

Bellatrix’s nose was _very_ out of joint. She was embarrassed and annoyed that Sirius had caught her in a lie and had showed her up. But, what she was _particularly_ irritated by was that Sirius was being given deferential treatment by being ushered to the Hogwarts Express by his parents. She thought this greatly unfair, considering that she had only been accompanied by a house-elf the year prior and had exclaimed that she was being “very hard-done by, indeed!”. Andromeda had then pointed out to her sister that she too wasn’t being accompanied by their parents and had received the exact same treatment as Bellatrix had the year prior, but Bellatrix wouldn’t hear of it. She’d left in an almighty strop soon after and gone to bed early; Sirius had only seen Bellatrix at breakfast that morning and she had shot daggers in his direction the entire time. 

The girls answered their Father in an identical chorus of, 

“Yes, sir.” 

Druella then spoke, affixing her daughters with a sharp look. In amongst the pale grey eyes, patrician features and dark hair, Druella stood out like a sore thumb. She was very beautiful, of course, but she was blonde and her face was less angular than the Black’s - having been a Rosier before marriage. 

“You’re both to behave like the ladies I’ve raised you to be, and to mind your manners at all times. I don’t want to hear that you have received any more detentions, Bellatrix. That was _unacceptable_ last year.” Druella shot her eldest daughter a warning look, before continuing, “We will send an owl so that you can write to us at least once a month, to tell us how your school work is improving.” 

Cygnus nodded at his wife with approval, before adding, 

“Quite, so. Remember children, you are all part of the _Most Noble and Ancient House_. To be part of our family is a _privilege_. You will all do well to remember our family words.” 

Sirius, alongside his cousins, automatically recounted, 

“ _Toujours Pur._ ” 

Orion produced a gold pocket-watch from the waist-coat of his robes, 

“It’s nearly ten thirty. We don’t want to be late. Andromeda-” 

Sirius felt his cousin stiffen by his side, undoubtedly nervous at being addressed directly by the head of the family. 

“-I shall apparate with you first, then return for Sirius. Bellatrix, you are to apparate with your Aunt. Will a house elf be along with the luggage?” 

Druella shook her head, 

“Enderby has already assured me the children’s luggage is on the train in the last compartment. He’s most reliable, for an _elf._ ” 

Druella then addressed the children with a prim tone, 

“All your uniforms are in your trunks, which are labelled accordingly. You can change on the train.” 

Sirius didn’t have time to inwardly speculate on how his Aunt’s servants had managed to pack a trunk (filled with _what?!_ ) without his knowledge, let alone fit him for robes of a uniform he didn’t know he possessed _or_ had to wear - as another thought occurred to him. 

He spoke up suddenly, 

“What about Regulus? And Narcissa?” 

All four of the adults stared at him as though he’d grown another head. 

He could see his Mother’s lip curling, and he knew it was because he’d asked a question without being given the freedom to do so. Children daring to speak out of turn was something she utterly _loathed_. Unfortunately, Sirius had made something of a habit of this. 

Cygnus asked dryly, 

“What about them?” 

Sirius frowned, 

“Well, we haven’t had a chance to say goodbye.” 

There was a beat of silence following this statement. Walburga’s eyes narrowed in on her son and she hissed, 

“Do not make a _scene_ , Sirius.” 

And that, apparently, was that. It was clear that there was to be no further discussion of the matter. 

Sirius tried to catch his Father’s eye, but he seemed to be awfully preoccupied with his gold pocket-watch. 

Walburga then barked, 

“Come along Bellatrix. We will _not_ be late.” 

Bellatrix quickly and obediently rushed over to her Aunt and grabbed her hand. With a small pop, the pair disappeared from the scene. 

Andromeda similarly took this as a cue to hurry over to her Uncle. Before taking Orion’s hand, she added a small and shy, 

“Goodbye Father, goodbye Mother.” 

Orion and Andromeda then likewise disapperated, with a dignified pop. Neither Cygnus nor Druella had made any attempt to say a farewell to their daughter, though. 

Sirius - who was left behind - stood, feeling rather awkward, in his Aunt and Uncle’s company. Although he’d been living at their house for the last several months, and all the months and years before that, they were - in a great many ways - virtual strangers to one another. 

Cygnus again broke the silence and added a few of what Sirius was sure were _meant_ to be encouraging words, 

“Enjoy Slytherin, Sirius. Be sure to make our family proud. We’re relying on you to uphold our sacred family traditions.” 

Sirius smiled weakly, his nerves mounting further still. Fortunately, his Father reappeared in the drawing room and Sirius quickly hastened over to where Orion stood. 

With a polite nod in his Uncle and Aunt’s direction, Sirius grabbed Orion’s hand and then felt himself being hurtled - through time and space - to apparate. He’d side-long apparated before a number of times, but one never really got used to the uncomfortable feeling. It felt like you were being squeezed through a compressed tube. It was quite horrible. 

However, despite how queasy Sirius felt, they had successfully emerged on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Sirius straightened up and his eyes widened in astonishment. 

It was the most people he’d seen in one place in his whole entire _life_. 

Beside the gleaming, scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express, which was billowing steam impatiently and was impressive enough, the whole platform was _teeming_ with activity. Owls were hooting as they soared overhead, cats and other creatures were mewling in their owner’s arms or weaving through the crowd’s legs, house elves and porters were loading heavy trunks onto the train, students were cheerfully reacquainting themselves with one another after the summer break - and parents and children were hugging and crying as they said tearful goodbyes to one another. 

Walburga prodded Sirius in the side sharply, 

“Come _along_ , Sirius.” 

His Father, Bellatrix and Andromeda were already a few paces ahead - but Sirius had been caught staring as a _very_ tearful woman hugged and kissed a red-headed girl with green eyes, a few metres away from him. The way the pair _gripped_ each other! He hadn’t seen such wildly _showy_ displays of affection before behind closed doors, let alone in public. It was fascinating, if not mildly mortifying. Sirius had also registered that the mother and daughter were wearing very bizarre clothes. He gulped as he realised what it meant… 

“ _Muggles_.” 

Walburga sneered, answering Sirius’s thought. She grabbed her son’s hand, practically crushing his knuckles in her vice-like grip and pulled him bodily along the platform, away from the pair of muggles. She added in a very acidic voice, 

“Stay away from that mudblood.” 

Sirius nodded furiously. 

Walburga and Sirius caught up to the rest of their party, just as another joined. Sirius recognised the encroacher immediately: it was Randolph Lestrange. He was quite a short man but Sirius suspected he would have been rather strapping and fit in his prime. Although, now he was older, his stature had diminished significantly. He wore spectacularly elaborate robes and his white hair had been oiled back with what Sirius could only presume was gallons upon gallons of _Sleekeazy_. Sirius had seen him over the years attending his parent’s soirees; Randolph Lestrange and his wife never missed his Mother’s winter solstice party. Randolph often brought along his sons to such events - Rodolphus and Rabastan - two obstinate and surly boys who Sirius and his cousins were forced to play with on occasion. 

“Orion! It’s simply _marvellous_ to see you old boy-” 

Randolph started to shake Orion’s hand quite enthusiastically, before turning to Sirius’s Mother, 

“-and my dear Walburga, I dare say you are lovelier each time we meet! Infact, I declare that you are loveliness _itself_.” 

Randolph then made a large production of stooping low to place a wet, whiskery kiss on Walburga’s gloved hand. 

Sirius could see Andromeda turning steadily pink, as she tried to suppress a fit of giggles from erupting out loud. He caught his cousin’s eye and grinned widely, which only made Andromeda go redder. It _was_ rather embarrassing - Lestrange was being pretty over the top. 

Orion replied with a civil, though not impolite nod, 

“Good to see you too, Randolph. Is Lettice here, to see the boys off?” 

As if on cue - or maybe she had been obediently ‘waiting in the wings’, so to speak, til she had been directly asked after by a Black - Lettice Lestrange appeared, with her two sons bringing up the rear. Lettice had an upturned nose and Rodolphus and Rabastan were just as sullen-looking as Sirius remembered. They were both already changed into their Hogwarts robes and Rodolphus’s tie was the silver and green associated with Slytherin. Sirius gulped, his nerves resurfacing as he stared at the tie. He also noticed Bellatrix and Rodolphus exchange a smirk with one another. 

Randolph was gesticulating wildly, his voice unbearably pompous as he reintroduced his children for Orion and Walburga’s benefit, 

“Here they are! My sons, my heirs - Rodolphus and Rabastan. It’s Rabastan’s first year, this year.” 

At this comment, Orion suddenly pushed Sirius forward. Orion clapped a hand down on Sirius’s shoulder and grandly stated, 

“It’s my son Sirius’s first year at Hogwarts, also.” 

Sirius stood up as straight as he could, under the scrutiny. 

“Ahhh!” 

Randolph eyed Sirius up and down, his voice impossibly oily and sycophantic, 

“Master Sirius! I’m sure you and Rabastan will be the _greatest_ of friends in Slytherin together.” 

Rabastan was then shunted forward like Sirius had been. After a _very_ pointed look shot at him from his Father, Rabastan managed a stiff smile in Sirius’s direction. 

_“No thanks”_ Sirius thought suddenly. 

Where had _that_ come from? Despite the wild thought, Sirius also managed a smile back at Rabastan - and only hoped his true feelings weren't plain as day on his face. 

Randolph seemed pleased by the interaction of the two boys, so he abruptly declared, 

“I don’t wish to keep you Orion, Walburga.” 

He almost bowed in deference to each of them, which nearly set Andromeda off with another round of hidden giggles. He then stated, 

“I hope you have a lovely day - and best of luck to you for your first term at Hogwarts, Master Sirius!” 

And with all that flashy pomp and ceremony, Randolph and his family departed further down the platform. As soon as the family were out of earshot, Walburga turned and hissed in a nasty undertone to her husband, 

“What an irritating little man. And his _wife!_ That hairstyle wasn’t popular in 1871, let alone a hundred years later-” 

Andromeda let out a noise that sounded like a hiccup mixed with a squeal; probably from the strain of having to be composed throughout that entire interaction and not explode into outright laughter. Orion noticed and sharply reprimanded her, 

“As we have told you before, being a Black comes with _obligations_. We are at the top of the social pyramid so many people will try to befriend you in order to be associated with our family. It is up to you _all_ -” 

Orion looked significantly from Andromeda, to Bellatrix, then finally resting his gaze on Sirius, 

“-to use your judgement to ascertain who you should associate with. Sirius, this particularly applies to you, as the Black heir.” 

At the mention of the word ‘heir’ Bellatrix’s expression changed. She shot Sirius a mean look, before turning away - lest her Aunt or Uncle see her sour countenance. Sirius ignored Bellatrix and nodded up at his Father dutifully. 

His stomach churned monstrously. He really _didn’t_ need reminding. He knew perfectly well what all his responsibilities were. 

Orion glanced at his pocket-watch again, 

“It’s quarter to eleven. We ought to find you all an empty carriage.” 

Orion strode ahead and the rest of the family stepped lively in his wake. However, the Black family’s procession was stopped a few more times along their journey by various other members of high society, wishing to make themselves reacquainted with Orion Black and his firstborn son. 

First, they were accosted by Montgomery “ _Oh, please, call me Monty, old boy!_ ” Carrow, who reintroduced his twin children to the Blacks. Alecto and Amycus were third year Slytherins and Sirius had a vague, blurry memory of having to spend a few afternoons in the Carrow’s nursery during his childhood. He remembered that Alecto had delighted in savagely ripping the heads off all her dolls and, judging by the faintly _dangerous_ look in her eyes, Sirius suspected she’d never grown out of that phase. Next, they encountered Hugo Yaxley, who proudly showed off his son Corban - a seventh year Slytherin - who’d been made Head Boy that year. The worst encounter _by far_ , in Sirius’s opinion, was an interaction with Mrs. Camilla Greengrass. She made a terrible fuss over Sirius’s Mother (Andromeda had gone giggly again) and then had proceeded to shove her daughters, who were also starting at Hogwarts for their first term, under Sirius’s nose. Another set of twins, although this time identical, Arabella and Beatrice wore their straight, golden hair in stylish ribbons. They both had wide, light green eyes and they peered at Sirius with identical, expectant expressions. They really were _very_ pretty. Sirius had felt rather lightheaded and embarrassed; it was awful. After Mrs. Greengrass had made a few not-so-subtle hints about betrothals and ‘ _marrying together great and noble bloodlines_ ’, Sirius, Andromeda and Bellatrix were finally whisked aboard the Hogwarts Express. 

Orion had stiffly shaken his son’s hand in parting and Walburga had even managed to throw in one last disparaging comment for good luck ( _Don’t you **dare** get dirt on your silk travelling cloak!_). The cousins had found an empty compartment towards the middle of the train and they opened the window, to take one final look at Orion and Walburga. The large clock overhead had struck eleven and immediately the train jerked forward, pistons could be heard screaming and the platform started to move. Sirius waved goodbye at his parents, who didn’t return the gesture, until they were out of sight. 

In amongst the nerves, there was a sudden swooping _thrill_ in the bottom of Sirius’s stomach. He was away from his parents for the first time in his _life_ (well, summers away at the cousin's house didn’t count) and the great ‘unknown’ lay ahead; could this be the beginning of an adventure? 

“We ought to go and find our trunks and change.” 

Bellatrix spoke decisively, resuming her mantle of leader now that the adults had gone. Andromeda replied, 

“Shouldn’t one of us stay behind and mind the compartment?” 

She was far less pink now but she still seemed rather giddy. It was clear she was very excited. 

“Good idea, Andie. You and I will go and change and Sirius can wait for us here. By himself.” 

Like her Aunt Walburga, Bellatrix had a way of saying things _so resolutely_ , that there didn’t seem to be a question in the matter. It was obvious to Sirius that Bellatrix was still moody at him for showing her-up the day before and this was some sort of punishment - leaving him here, all alone. Sirius didn’t particularly mind though and didn’t voice an argument. It wouldn’t be the _worst_ thing in the world, after all, having ten minutes away from the cousins he’d spent every waking minute with since June... 

Bellatrix stomped out of the carriage without another word, chin and nose aloft, and Andromeda made to follow, although she flashed Sirius an apologetic look. She called back behind her to Sirius, as she hastened to follow Bellatrix out into the corridor, 

“Don’t worry, we shan’t take long!” 

And with that, Sirius was left alone in the compartment.

London was thundering by the window, which was still wide open from when the cousins had leaned out to wave at his parents. The weather was just as terrible in the city as it was in the country; while it ought to be warm, seeing as it was only _just_ Autumn, it was in fact dreadfully cold and it looked like the heavens were about to open for another downpour. Typical, bloody English summer. 

Sirius closed the window with a snap and surveyed his surroundings. 

He looked around the carriage skeptically. It was one of the shabbiest places he’d ever been in. His Mother’s last words about getting his travel cloak dirty were still ringing in his ears and he wondered whether the faded-blue, carpeted seats were actually alright to sit on. 

He didn’t usually obey his Mother’s commands when she was out of eyeline (or earshot) but… Sirius had a _thing_ about being dirty. A great aversion, in fact. He’d get frightfully angry when they played two-a-side Quidditch (Regulus was always resigned to the sidelines as scorekeeper) during the summers when they were actually able to enjoy the sunshine, if anyone got any mud on his clothes. Bellatrix called it a “compulsion” and teased him by deliberately trying to flick dirt his way. Even Andromeda, who was nearly always on his side for most things, told him to get a grip on occasion. 

The idea of sitting on a carpeted chair that was obviously stained and covered in dust gave him the heebie-jeebies, rather. 

All at once, he had a stroke of _brilliance_. Sirius pulled out his wand from the inside pocket of his travelling cloak - inwardly still utterly _ecstatic_ he finally had his own wand - and pointed the wand at the shabby, dirty seat before him. He cleared his throat, flourished the wand slightly and spoke with a confidence that exceeded his eleven years, 

“ _Scourgify!_ ” 

The carpeted seats instantly turned a deep, royal blue colour - which was possibly the seat’s original colour, before the years of ingrained dirt and wear and tear had soiled them and turned them lighter. Feeling very impressed with himself, Sirius hadn’t realised the door of the compartment had opened behind him. 

“Woah! You already know how to do cleaning charms?” 

Sirius turned swiftly and came face to face with two boys, who were standing in the doorway. Both were already dressed in their Hogwarts robes and they appeared to be first years, due to the lack of house colours. 

One boy was short and round, with pale, mousy blonde hair, a pointed nose and a nervous expression. The other was taller, although very slight and had a shock of black, untidy hair, that stuck-up at the back, and glasses. The bespeckled boy had been the one to speak and he was grinning widely. His hazel eyes were shining. 

Sirius answered matter of factly, 

“Well… yes.” 

He’d learnt the spell from his Mother, who liked to use it every now and then to ‘scrub his mouth out’ when he’d said something disagreeable. Or spoken out of turn. Never for actual cleaning purposes, mind you. She was far too lofty for _servant stuff_. Sirius didn’t imagine his Mother had ever used Scourgify for it’s intended use, in her entire life. 

“Cool.” 

The bespeckled boy answered in an impressed tone, 

“I’ve seen my Mum use charms like that before but I haven’t ever been able to get the wand flourish right.” 

The bespeckled boy then enthusiastically drew his own wand and stabbed it forward. It was as though he was miming vanquishing a deadly dragon with a broadsword, rather than trying to perform a simple cleaning charm. Sirius grinned. 

The bespeckled boy mirrored Sirius’s expression and stuck his hand out, 

“I’m James. James Potter. This here is Peter - uh, didn’t catch his last name- we just met on the platform-” 

The blonde boy, who’d remained silent until then, squeaked, 

“Pettigrew! My name’s Peter Pettigrew.” 

James nodded enthusiastically, 

“Yes, right! We’re both first years and I’m guessing you are, too? What’s your name?” 

Sirius, despite his grin, had been glancing apprehensively between the two boys. His Father’s reprimand of Andromeda only minutes prior was still fresh in his mind - “ _Use your judgement to ascertain who you should associate with. Sirius, this particularly applies to you, as the Black heir._ ” 

But then, James had mentioned his surname as being Potter - and Sirius instantly felt more at ease. His Great-Aunt Dorea was a Potter, after marrying someone called Charlus. He’d never met Charlus before but his Grandfather Pollux got along famously with Aunt Dorea, so he presumed that the Potter’s must be acceptable. Sirius wondered vaguely if he and James were related. It wasn’t a particularly unusual thought, as Sirius was often related to most of the acquaintances he was introduced to from other areas of high society. Infact, his _only_ friends were his cousins. Or Evan Rosier - a third year Slytherin - and who was his cousin's cousin. 

Sirius shook James’s hand with vigour and stated, 

“I’m Sirius Black.” 

Peter, who’d been watching the bigger boys with round eyes, spluttered and sniggered, 

“ _Serious?_ Is that your _real_ name?” 

Sirius turned to Peter and looked down his nose at him. The smaller boy squirmed noticeably. Sirius answered the question coldly, 

“Yes. I’m named after _Alpha Canis Majoris_ -” Sirius’s latin was impeccable and his voice had taken on a haughty tone reminiscent of his Father’s, “-the brightest star in the sky. It’s a tradition in my family to be named after stars.” 

Peter was blushing a horrible shade of puce by the time Sirius had finished talking. Satisfied that the smaller boy had been thoroughly put in his place, Sirius turned to James and asked promptly, 

“Do you know a Charlus and Dorea Potter?” 

Somewhat taken aback by the seemingly inane question, James frowned ever so slightly as he answered, 

“Uh, well, I _think_ Charlus is my Dad’s cousin, but I don’t-” 

“And who are these people?!” 

Bellatrix and Andromeda had returned to the compartment, now fully dressed in their freshly pressed school robes. 

Bellatrix, in particular, looked very impressive and mature in her Slytherin colours. Andromeda grinned toothily at Sirius from behind her sister; the girls had done their hair in the same, braided style, complete with a green silk bow, and Sirius was struck by just how very similar the two girls looked. 

Bellatrix - who’d been the one to speak - was shooting glaring and accusatory looks at both James and Peter. 

Sirius wasn’t particularly bothered by Bellatrix’s unfriendly expression, as her capricious and mercurial moods were second nature to him. However, he noticed that James looked somewhat uneasy and Peter looked almost on the verge of tears under his cousin’s icy gaze. 

Sirius introduced the group politely, remembering his manners, 

“This is James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. And these are my cousins - Bellatrix Black and Andromeda Black.” 

It appeared that Peter had thought better of asking if Bellatrix and Andromeda were the girl’s _real_ names, even if their names were more of a difficult mouthful than Sirius’s own. Peter noticeably gulped, shuddering under Bella’s unfriendly glare. James, however, flashed an easy smile and waved, 

“Hiya!” 

Bellatrix looked less than impressed by the greeting. She suddenly shot a question at Peter, who blubbered extremely nervously in response, 

“Pettigrew… is your sister called Perdita?” 

Peter nodded, blushing pink. 

Bellatrix continued to glare at him, mistrustful but not _as_ aggressively as before. It appeared that the boys had passed the "test", much to Sirius’s relief. Satisfied with her interrogation, Bellatrix then turned to Sirius and announced, 

“Andie and I are going to go sit with my friends in a compartment at the front of the train. You’re welcome to come with us, if you’d like.” 

Sirius made a face, 

“Will it be all _girls?_ ” 

He had a horrible feeling the two Greengrass twins would be there, waiting for him. Or worse still, Alecto Carrow. 

Bellatrix snapped moodily, 

“Fine then! Don’t come. I was just _trying_ to be nice. Stay here with these _smelly boys._ Come along, Andromeda, we’re going!” 

It looked as though Andromeda had half a mind to argue. Sirius wished she would stay; he liked Andie best of all his cousins and sometimes even better than Regulus. But before Andromeda had a chance to voice a protest, Bellatrix had dragged her forcibly into the corridor. It was clear that Bella was still in an almighty strop with Sirius and was continuing to punish him, for whatever reason. 

After the girls had left there was a beat of silence, and then James let out a low whistle, 

“Wow. She’s a handful.” 

Sirius snorted. He had _no_ idea. 

James continued, 

“Are they your sisters?” 

Sirius shook his head and then sat back on the now-cleaned chair, lounging lazily. James sat beside him and Peter followed suit, perching on James’s other side. Sirius answered, 

“No. They’re my cousins.” 

“Oh yes, you did say. Well, you jolly all look the same. Are you an only child? _I’m_ an only child.” James asked, somewhat eagerly. 

Sirius shook his head again, much to James's dismay. His long hair fell into his eyes in an elegant sort of way, as he replied, 

“Nope. I have a younger brother. Regulus. He’ll start Hogwarts next year.” 

Peter piped up, interjecting so that he wouldn’t be forgotten, 

“I’ve got an older sister! Perdita! She’s in fifth year.” 

This did seem pretty impressive to both James and Sirius. Fifth year was really _very_ grown-up, indeed. 

At that exact moment however, an elderly witch pushing a trolley full of sweets arrived outside the compartment. The door was still ajar from when Bellatrix and Andromeda had left the compartment in a hurry and the trolley-witch stuck her kind, wrinkled face in, to ask the boys, 

“Anything off the trolley, dears?” 

James and Sirius were on their feet instantly. Sirius pulled a fistful of fat, golden galleons out from his trouser pocket, which made both James and Peter’s eyes widen exponentially, and handed the money over to the trolley-witch without preamble. He then chose a large assortment of sweets from the trolley - Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Ice Mice, Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes and his absolute favourite, Fizzing Whizzbees. James, who had his own collection of galleons and sickles, grabbed a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans, as well as a few slabs of toffee. 

After closing the compartment door, the boys resumed their seats and the trolley-witch moved further along the carriage. Sirius pulled off his travelling cloak to get comfortable and he raised his eyebrow at James, who was glancing between the packet of Bertie Botts and his toffee slabs - as if deciding what to eat first, 

“Do you actually _like_ those beans?” 

James grinned widely and winked, 

“What’s life without a little risk?” 

Sirius grinned back at him; the comment striking a chord. He’d have to remember that one. 

As Sirius gazed at James, who was busy snapping his slab of toffee into bite-sized pieces, he had a sudden desire to be generous with his sweets - not something he’d ever been known for doing previously. In fact, he and Bella had some of their best and most vicious fights over who got the last of the Fizzing Whizzbees. Maybe it was the nerves, or maybe it was the 'great unknown' which lay ahead - but Sirius had a sudden urge to try and make friends. All great adventures started with a comrade or two, after all. 

He spied Peter staring forlornly at his newly acquired collection of Chocolate Frogs and he took pity on the smaller boy. He _was_ a pretty pitiful creature, admittedly. Sirius threw a solitary Chocolate Frog in Peter’s direction and the chubby boy caught it at the last minute, with great surprise. 

Peter squeaked, 

“Wow. Thanks!” 

Sirius shrugged, seemingly unbothered, 

“Don’t mention it. You’re welcome to keep the card too - unless it’s Cyprian Youdle. I haven’t managed to find him yet, for some reason.” 

James laughed around a mouthful of toffee, and bragged, 

“Oh, I’ve got about a thousand of him. We should do a trade! My Dad and I made sure we collected all the Quidditch-related cards as soon as we possibly could.” 

Peter’s mouth was stuffed full of chocolate as he proudly produced the Famous Witch or Wizard card from the wrappings, for the other boys to see. It was Morgan Le Fay, also known as Morgana - Sirius had at least ten of her card in his collection at Grimmauld Place. 

James laughed again and pointed cheekily, 

“Look! She looks a bit like your cousin, Bellatrix!” 

The boys dissolved into giggles, no one laughing harder than Sirius. James wasn’t wrong; they did have the same wicked glint in their eyes. 

The boys then spent an enjoyable half an hour trying beans from James’s Bertie Botts packet. Sirius had learnt his lesson with Bertie Botts at a very young age, when Bellatrix had forced him to eat a grass-flavoured bean. He had largely avoided the confectionery since. But as they were James’s choice of sweet - and Sirius wanted to get to know the boy better - he was happy to play along. James already seemed like _enormous_ fun. 

Peter had just turned a faint shade of green and started to dry-heave - he’d sworn he had gotten a Dragon Dung bean - which had just made James and Sirius fall into hysterics (“ _How do you even **know** what Dragon Dung tastes like, Pettigrew?!_”) - when a small red-headed girl slunk into the compartment. 

She didn’t seem to care that the compartment was occupied or that it was full of rowdy, raucous boys, who were all roaring with laughter. She sat next to the window in the seats opposite and pressed her face against the window-pane. It was obvious she’d been crying. 

Sirius noticed the blotchy pink face and tears and averted his eyes immediately, without getting a better look at the girl. He was pretty hopeless when it came to crying girls - he never knew what to do when any of his cousins became upset. 

James caught his eyes then and made a deliberately grotesque face at him. Sirius snorted and then they were off again in hysterics - laughing loudly and throwing Bertie Botts beans in each other’s faces. James was then dared to try a purple coloured bean by Peter and the bespeckled boy declared in the most gallant of tones, 

“I’m not afraid!”, before shoving the bean straight into his mouth. He made a disgusted face instantly and Sirius sniggered, 

“Isn’t it a sugared violet?” 

James shook his head, wincing, 

“No. Aubergine… _eruuuugh_.” 

They fell about laughing again. Another boy walked through the compartment door and sat beside the crying girl, but Sirius didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to persuade Peter to eat a dodgy-looking brown bean and convince him that it was actually just chocolate. 

James was laughing along and caught up in all the fun, until his head shot up and he suddenly cried out, 

“Slytherin?” 

Sirius’s head shot up too, mainly in confusion. He looked around for who James was talking to and his eyes landed upon the boy and girl seated opposite. 

The boy had incredibly greasy hair that fell around his face in curtains. With a hooked nose and a sallow, unkempt look, Sirius was immediately rather put-off. Sirius then turned to appraise the girl next to him and realised with a nasty jolt, that she was the muggle he’d seen earlier with his Mother on the platform. She was a _mudblood._

Sirius stared at the girl nervously. He’d never actually seen a mudblood up close before… 

James was still talking, 

“Who wants to be in _Slytherin?_ I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” 

James directed this question at Sirius, who had to reluctantly pry his eyes away from the redhead girl in order to answer. 

His thoughts turned to Bellatrix in her green and silver tie, his Uncle’s ‘encouraging’ words earlier that morning and his Father’s plans for him to be a Slytherin Prefect by fifth year. He didn’t smile as he responded, 

“My whole family have been in Slytherin.” 

“Blimey!” 

The smile didn’t leave James’ face as he spoke, though his tone was slightly incredulous, “-and I thought you seemed alright.” 

Sirius grinned hugely. 

“Maybe I’ll break tradition.” 

It was a quip; not something he’d _dare_ utter, even as a joke, around any of his family. But, fortunately, none of them were around to hear it. Sirius felt a bit daring - breaking the rules and speaking out of turn. He liked it. 

He continued, adding curiously, 

“Where are you heading, if you’d got the choice?” 

James pulled a similar stance to the one he’d tried earlier with his wand when they’d been talking about cleaning charms. It was as though he was lifting an invisible sword proudly above his head. 

“Gryffindor, _where dwell the brave at heart!_ Like my Dad.” 

The greasy boy opposite made a disparaging noise at that comment. 

James’s playful, mimed sword fight came to an abrupt, screeching end and he looked personally affronted at the other boy’s tone. 

Sirius felt a rush of loyalty towards James and he scowled at the greasy boy, just as James questioned sharply, 

“Got a problem with that?” 

“No.” The boy paused, his lip curling with a sneer, “If you’d rather be brawny that brainy-” 

Sirius interjected coldly, 

“Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” 

James roared with laughter and Sirius beamed proudly - utterly chuffed he’d made James laugh so heartily. 

The redheaded girl stood up suddenly, her rosy cheeks flushed, and she glared between James and Sirius. Dislike was evident upon her face. She stated rather loftily, 

“Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment.” 

“ _Ooooooooo!_ ” 

Both James and Sirius were laughing and mimicking her voice. As Severus made to walk past, James purposefully tried to trip him over. Sirius laughed harder and cried, 

“See ya later, _Snivellus!_ ” 

The compartment door slammed shut as Severus and the red haired girl left. James had to hold his sides, he was laughing so hard. In between sniggers, he managed to wheeze, 

“Snivellus! That’s _brilliant._ ” 

Sirius sat back in his seat, feeling very pleased with himself for his quick wit and delighted that he’d gotten such a reaction out of James. Although, at the thought of that greasy boy - Severus - being in Slytherin, he grumbled, 

“I really hope that Snivellus _git_ isn’t in Slytherin. I’d hate to spend the next seven years living in his dormitory.” 

James stopped laughing at once, 

“You weren’t fibbing before, were you? About your family all being in Slytherin?” 

Sirius shook his head glumly, 

“You saw Bellatrix in her school robes. _Everyone_ in my family has been sorted into Slytherin; there hasn’t been an exception for centuries. Andromeda and I are expected to be in Slytherin.” 

Peter - who’d been extremely quiet throughout the entire Snivellus episode, in fact he’d been cowering against his seat - suddenly piped up, 

“My sister Perdy is in Slytherin!” 

Sirius stared at Peter and couldn’t help but feel even more gloomy. Oh well. At least he’d know one other boy in his dormitory. Aside from Snivellus. Although, Sirius wished James was also destined for the green and silver house. He was _much_ more fun than Peter. 

James shook his head and declared valiantly, 

“Yeah, well, just because your family has been in Slytherin doesn’t mean you’re both destined to be there! Look at the Fawley family for example - they’re all usually in Hufflepuff but Tabitha is in Gryffindor. _And_ she’s now Head Girl!” 

Sirius didn’t really have the heart - or the energy - to bother to correct him. It was all far too complicated to explain. Sirius _had_ to be sorted into Slytherin. _So many people_ were depending on it. 

Sirius sighed, 

“Let’s talk about something else, shall we?” 

James nodded hurriedly, practically leaping at the chance to change the subject to something lighter. He asked quickly, 

“So - who do you follow in the Quidditch League?” 

Sirius grinned, all moodiness quickly evaporating, 

“Puddlemere United, of course.” 

James made a face, 

“Oh come _on!_ You only like them because they’re the most popular English team on the board…” 

Sirius barked out a laugh, 

“Not at all! They’re definitely not popular in _my_ house, at any rate. All my family _worships_ the Falmouth Falcons.” 

He rolled his eyes for dramatic effect, which made Peter splutter, 

“What’s wrong with the Falcons?” 

James and Sirius just laughed, neither of them bothering to explain. It was strange how quickly and how _easily_ Sirius felt like he was getting along with James. 

Sirius then asked James curiously, 

“Who do you support?” 

James pulled a badge out of his trouser pocket, which was emblazoned with a double A, surrounded by a sky blue setting. James stated proudly, almost arrogantly, 

“The Appleby Arrows! My Dad and I have seen them play _twenty two_ times.” 

Both Sirius and Peter made impressed noises at this omission. 

The compartment door opened once again and Sirius bristled. After the episode with Snivellus and the mudblood, he’d had _enough_ of visitors. 

A group of first year boys piled in, all already changed into their Hogwarts robes. Sirius was about to say something, like “ _Sod off!_ ”, when James exclaimed happily, 

“Davey!” 

A very skinny, dark haired boy beamed at James; Davey had a gap-toothed smile. Sirius noticed that one of his front teeth was chipped, too. James rose to his feet and the boys exchanged a practised yet boisterously exuberant high-five. It looked like the most natural thing in the world. 

Sirius leaned back in his chair, his hair falling into his eyes haughtily. His bad mood had returned. 

James was cheering again, 

“Hiya Sturgis! And Toby! Oh - _Marlene!_ What are you doing on the train?!” 

Sirius hadn’t noticed that in amongst the crowd of boys, a skinny, little blonde girl had snuck in. She wore a similar expression as Davey - she was absolutely beaming at James. 

The Marlene girl had a Scottish accent, 

“Same as you, of course!” 

She charged forward, through the crowd of boys, to throw her arms around James in a bear-hug. James hugged her back tightly, before adding, 

“I’m not complaining! But you live in Scotland, so I didn’t think I’d see you til we got to the castle-” 

Marlene chuckled, 

“I didn’t want to miss out on any fun! Besides, we’ve all got parents who can apparate us to Hogsmeade and then walk us into the grounds, eh? The train is sort of pointless, if you think about it-” 

“- well, not _all_ our parents can do that.” 

Another boy had piped up; he had blonde hair and a pleasant face. Marlene clapped her hands to her mouth, clearly embarrassed, and said in a very apologetic tone, 

“Oh Edward, I’m _sorry_. I didn’t mean anything by it, I just forget sometimes that-” 

The boy, Edward, waved away this apology, his pleasant smile still firmly in place, 

“Don’t worry about it, mate! No ‘arm done.” He paused and added, “And Edward’s too formal. Call me Ted, everybody does.” 

James grinned at him, 

“Nice to meet you, Ted. I’m guessing you are…?” 

Ted nodded, returning James’s grin, 

“Muggleborn, yeah. Though I was only just told what a ‘muggle’ was a few weeks ago when I got me 'Hogwarts letter. Me a wizard, eh? My Mum thought I was ‘aving her on. It took nearly two weeks to convince her I wasn't telling porky pies!” 

James laughed. 

Sirius, on the other-hand, tensed in his seat. 

From his cockney accent, to his scuffed clothes, to his dirty, muggle blood, Ted was a class of person Sirius had never been subjected to mingling with before. Warning bells were sounding in Sirius’s head; this was _exactly_ what his Father would call “ _fraternising with mudbloods_ ”. He’d already been in the presence of one mudblood earlier - the redhead girl - how many more was he going to be forced to interact with? His family hadn’t warned him that they’d be practically _everywhere._ How was he supposed to know what to look out for anyway, so he could avoid them? He hadn’t seen a mudblood up close before, til he saw the redhead girl in the compartment, and Sirius was perplexed to find that they didn’t look very different to other witches and wizards... 

__

__

Sirius watched Ted, the mudblood, with disquiet - hoping James wouldn’t invite him to sit down. 

Which is, of course, _exactly_ what James decided to do. 

“Sit down everyone! Let’s get introduced - we have lots of sweets too, to share-” 

As if to add insult to injury, James then started handing around Sirius’s Chocolate Frogs to the newcomers as if they were his own sweets. Sirius didn’t mind sharing with James, or even sparing a few sweets for Peter, but he didn’t _know_ all these new interlopers. And some of them were apparently mudbloods! Imagine if his Father could see him? Sharing his sweets with _mudbloods!_

James seemed to sense Sirius’s mood darken and glanced at him sideways, 

“That’s alright, isn’t it?” 

Sirius frowned. He felt rather stroppy and petulant, 

“Well, they are _my_ sweets. I paid for them. And I don’t know these… _people_.” 

He finished in rather a snooty tone. 

The Scottish girl, Marlene, overheard the interaction and she was frowning deeply at Sirius. She butted-in with an accusatory question, 

“And who are you?” 

Sirius turned to her and drew himself up to full height. He stated, in a noticeably proud tone, 

“I’m Sirius Black.” 

There was a silence, as a few of the purebloods in the compartment recognised the name. The others blinked; probably wondering if Sirius was his _real_ name, like Peter had done earlier. Sirius was used to silent awe when his name dropped into conversation. He knew his family’s name meant _something_. It’d been drilled into him as an infant that the Black name commanded respect across the wizarding world. 

He didn’t expect it to command fear, too. 

But that was how Marlene and even the boy Davey looked. _Fearful_. Marlene had fixed Sirius with a positively anxious look, before asking, 

“Your cousin is Bellatrix Black, isn’t she?” 

Sirius nodded coolly, wondering what Bella had to do with anything. 

Davey muttered, 

“My brother is in her year, but he’s a Hufflepuff. Galvin - my brother - well, he told me she hexed a few muggleborns last year. Nasty business.” 

Marlene added, 

“My sister, Moira, is also in her year. She said Bellatrix is a _bully_. Moira even said she heard Bellatrix use the… the _M word_ , too.” 

Sirius looked confused, 

“The “M” word? What’s that?” 

Marlene went very white and whispered, 

“ _Mudblood_.” 

Sirius glowered at her and Davey. He didn’t doubt that Bellatrix had hexed a few mudbloods during her first year at Hogwarts. Infact, he was quite positive the allegations were true as Bellatrix had even sent a few owls during the course of last year bragging to him and Regulus about the detentions she’d gotten. Andromeda and Narcissa had told Sirius that Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella had been utterly furious that Bellatrix had ‘disgraced the family’ by receiving detention. Sirius was quite sure that his Uncle and Aunt were angry that their eldest daughter had acted recklessly and been caught, now with a mark against her permanent record, but he suspected that they weren’t particularly bothered by the activity she’d actually participated in order to receive the detention, though. It would be incredibly hypocritical if that were the case, considering that Cygnus had wondered out loud during lunch only a fortnight ago whether he should indulge his cousin Araminta Meliflua Black with a spot of illegal muggle-hunting in Estonia, for her 60th birthday. 

As for the fact that Marlene was whispering the word mudblood and referring to it as the _“M word”_... well, Sirius thought that was faintly ridiculous. It wasn’t like it was a _swear word_. His Mother would go ballistic if he said _piss off_ or _prick_ or _shit_ or even something much more colourful and wonderfully sweary. But she used mudblood in her everyday vernacular. And if someone as prim and proper as Aunt Druella could use mudblood without blushing; that in Sirius’s measures was definitely _not_ a swear word. 

Sirius was ready to defend Bellatrix, nonetheless. She was his _family._ He wasn’t the type to stand idly by and let a bunch of strangers slander her, behind her back, without her being there to defend herself. James cheekily suggesting she looked like someone on a Chocolate Frog card was one thing, but openly accusing her of being a _bully_ was quite another. Sirius wasn’t about to let that go lightly. 

“I’m sure that’s all rumours and hearsay-” 

Sirius began savagely, but James cut his defense of Bellatrix off rather forcefully. Infact, the bespeckled boy stood up and cried very dramatically, 

“I just realised! We haven’t finished with our introductions, yet!” 

He wheeled around, somewhat wildly, and grabbed Peter by the shoulders, 

“This here is a _great_ bloke. His name’s Peter Pettigrew. He was telling Sirius and I earlier about how he already knew what Dragon Dung tasted like, because he ate a Bertie Botts every flavour bean and it tasted like the stuff-” 

Peter looked mortified, as the carriage erupted into laughter. 

Although he’d had to resort to making Peter the butt of a joke, James’s intervention had done the trick. Marlene and Davey were preoccupied with James’s showboating antics and they weren’t shooting glares in Sirius’s direction any longer. 

James continued, lapping up the attention, 

“-so who else here has interesting culinary tastes? Toby, doesn’t your older brother work with dangerous beasts at the ministry?” 

Toby chortled, a bit pompously, 

“Yes, but he doesn’t make a habit of sampling the beast’s _dung_.” 

The carriage burst into peels of laughter again. Peter was beetroot red by now. 

Sirius then stood up very abruptly. 

The laughter died immediately, as every eleven year old there turned to stare at him. He strode out of the compartment swiftly, not looking back. 

He had walked a few paces away down the corridor when someone grabbed his arm from behind and wheeled him around. 

It was James. He had a worried look on his face. 

“Sirius, you don’t have to leave-” 

Sirius scowled, shrugging James’s hand off his arm. He spoke bluntly, 

“It’s fine, _relax_. I just have to go and get dressed into my school robes.” 

James looked as though he didn’t believe Sirius at all. James then declared, pretty boldly, 

“Sirius, I _know_ you’re not like your cousin. You wouldn’t ever use the M word or hex muggleborns.” 

Sirius didn’t have anything to say back to that, so he stared at James coldly. 

It was clear that James Potter didn’t understand him at all. It was also evident that he’d made a mistake in not following Bellatrix and Andromeda, when he had the chance. 

After a time, Sirius muttered, 

“I have to go and get dressed.” 

James seemed reluctant to let him go, but he eventually said, 

“Well, then… if you’re sure. You’ll come back to the compartment after?” 

Sirius didn’t meet James’s eyes. He nodded curtly and then hastened down the carriage, away from the other boy. 

He’d been having so much fun that afternoon - but it’d all come crashing down. He passed compartment after compartment where friends were laughing and joking together, all seeming to be having the time of their lives. There was excitement and magic in the air; but Sirius felt starkly, bitterly alone. He felt like an outsider, peering in. Nobody understood him and he didn’t belong. 

His stomach churned ominously. He’d forgotten all about his nerves whilst he was in James’s company, but they had come flooding back now. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he could sense that the train was reaching the end of it’s journey and they were getting closer to Hogwarts now. 

Scowling darkly, Sirius stomped through to another carriage altogether. He didn’t know where he was going, exactly, but he kept moving forward. He vaguely remembered his Aunt’s instructions from earlier in the day - something about the house elf leaving his trunk in the last compartment on the train. 

It took a while to reach the luggage cart but when he did, he didn’t have to search for long to find his trunk. His initials - _S.O.B_ \- were engraved in an elegant, golden script on the side of his highly polished, black trunk. He reached for the lid and it sprung open as his touch; likely magically enchanted just to open for him. 

He stared at the objects inside. His Aunt’s elves certainly had been busy. Everything he could ever possibly need was neatly tucked away inside; a cauldron, scales, potions ingredients, parchment, school textbooks, quills, ink - even his prized _Cleansweep_ broomstick had been added. Folded neatly on top of all this school paraphernalia was a collection of freshly pressed robes. 

Sirius changed into his school uniform quickly, shoving his other robes into the trunk without bothering to fold them. He had realised while undressing, and with a horrible sinking feeling, that he’d left his silk travelling cloak behind in the compartment with James and the others. Along with all the sweets he’d bought off the trolley earlier. 

He’d probably have to go back… 

Sirius wandered out into the hall, feeling conflicted. He didn’t particularly care about losing the cloak; although he was sure his Mother would box his ears at Christmas if he showed up without it. He was more concerned about the sweets. He hadn’t even had a chance to eat any Fizzing Whizzbees yet! 

As if on cue, his stomach growled in protest. He sulked. This afternoon was _rubbish!_

He aimed a petulant kick at the nearest compartment door - but totally misjudged the distance - and his shoe actually connected with the heavy glass and wood door. 

Pain shot up his leg, swelling in his big toe. He hopped from foot to foot, wincing and feeling rather foolish, when the compartment door opened. 

A boy with light brown hair poked his head out, appraising Sirius with a puzzled expression. 

“Did you knock?” 

Sirius straightened up and glared at the boy. He certainly wasn’t in the mood to be trifled with. 

“No!” He replied coolly, “I, uh… I-” 

The defiance left his voice and he finished lamely, 

“-kicked.” 

A faint frown line appeared between the other boy’s eyebrows. 

Sirius suddenly noticed that there were several deep, jagged scars spanning the boy's face. It was hard _not_ to notice, really and Sirius openly stared. He hadn’t been raised by the type of Mother who’d taught him politely “not to look” when someone’s appearance was off-kilter. Sirius was the Black heir; he was allowed to stare if he wanted. And, frankly, Sirius had been shielded from most off-kilter sorts. The only people he regularly interacted with were his cousins and they all looked as polished and well-groomed as he did. 

The boy clearly realised Sirius was gawking at his scars and he shuffled uncomfortably under the scrutiny, his head ducking in embarrassment. His voice was mild enough though, 

“Well… alright. Did you need something?” 

Sirius considered his options. He couldn’t very well go and find Bellatrix and Andromeda and their friends now, as Bellatrix had mentioned that they were going to a compartment at the front of the train. He’d have to walk past the compartment he’d just vacated with James and the rest of them, and he didn't feel like going back that way... 

Sirius glanced up and down the deserted corridor and shrugged. He supposed he had nowhere else to go. 

“Move aside. I’ll sit in there with you.” 


	4. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s appropriate that Sirius’s initials are S.O.B. - don’t you think? I’ve enjoyed writing bratty, spoiled, little eleven year old Sirius a lot. Trigger warning again that there is more liberal use of the word 'mudblood'. 
> 
> Quite a few scenes/descriptions rely heavily on Chapter 7: 'The Sorting Hat' from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

_Wednesday 1st September 1971 (Continued)_

_“Move aside. I’ll sit in there with you.”_

Sirius meant it as he said it; as a command, not a question. He felt comfortable giving orders and he was entirely used to it, what with putting his tutors and Kreacher into line most days. Besides which, his toe was still throbbing painfully and he needed to sit down. 

The boy was gaping at him now; the frown knotting his eyebrows was deeply pronounced. 

Sirius scowled, annoyed that the boy hadn't instantly obeyed his command, so he shoved past roughly through to the compartment beyond. As Sirius entered, he gazed around the compartment contemptuously. It was empty, save for a half-read book laying open on the seat nearest the window. 

The door snapped shut behind Sirius with an angry click. Sirius turned to appraise the boy he’d be sharing the compartment with - he was a bit taller than Sirius and he had warm, chocolate brown eyes. But, Sirius thought, it was rather hard to notice the boy's nice eyes, when the first thing you noticed was all the scars. Sirius also noted the boy was a first year too - seeing as he didn’t have any house colours on his school robes, yet. 

Sirius smirked with a casual arrogance, asking in a mean-spirited way, 

“Why are you sitting in here all alone?” 

The boy countered - a lot quicker than Sirius had expected, 

“Why are you wandering the corridors, kicking doors?” 

Sirius arranged his face into looking disinterested, as he muttered, 

“Touché…” 

Sirius, simply having had enough of the conversation, deliberately and rudely turned his back on the other boy and pulled out his wand. Much like he’d done earlier that day and in another compartment, he performed the scouring charm to clean the train’s carpeted, stained seats. 

He flourished his wand, confidently cried, “ _Scourgify_!” and the results were imminent; the seat changed to a royal blue colour instantly and looked significantly better. Satisfied with his wand-work, Sirius flopped down upon the seat, laid his head back and stretched out. 

He’d noticed from the corner of his eye that the other boy’s expression had changed to looking faintly impressed by the use of magic. But Sirius couldn’t see the expression any longer, as the boy was now hidden behind the half-read book and seemed completely absorbed by it’s contents. 

Sirius twirled his wand through his fingers, still not completely over the fact that it belonged to _him_ and he was free to use it, at long last. He stared lovingly at it’s polished, black finish. He used his new school robes to wipe off a few thumb-prints and other imperfections he noticed along the edge. He was sure if Bella could see him, she’d start raving on about his clean “compulsion” and Andie would giggle, as she always did. 

Thinking of Bellatrix soured his mood further. He felt stupid for not sticking with his cousins on the train ride to school. He sighed loudly. 

The boy on the other side of the compartment cleared his throat, in a pointed way. 

Sirius rolled over onto his side and read the cover of the book the boy was apparently engrossed in, out loud. 

“The Count of Monte Cristo…” 

The boy didn’t emerge from his book, but he spoke in a slightly vexed tone, 

“Yes.” 

Sirius demanded, 

“Tell me what it’s about.” 

The boy still didn’t emerge from behind the book, but his tone had taken on a distinctly irritated edge. He replied shortly, 

“I can’t, it’s too involved. You’ll have to read it.” 

Sirius scowled, 

“But I’m _bored_. Tell me.” 

The book snapped shut and the boy glowered at Sirius. 

“You know, you’re _awfully_ rude.” 

Sirius looked confused. He wasn’t sure what the other boy was _talking_ about. He pushed himself off the seat and sat-up to face the boy, voicing as much, 

“What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything?” 

The other boy looked exasperated, 

“You’ve interrupted my reading - twice! I have no idea _who_ you are and why you're here, you just came barrelling in here-” 

Sirius cut him off, 

“Keep your knickers on! I’m Sirius.” 

The boy frowned hugely, 

“I’m sure you _are_ serious, but I meant-” 

This was becoming a running joke. First Pettigrew, now this boy. Sirius interrupted the boy impatiently, 

“No. My _name_ is Sirius. Sirius Black. And yes, that's my _real_ name.” 

The boy blinked at him, 

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” The boy paused for a moment before adding, “I’m Remus. Remus Lupin.” 

Sirius nodded at him, though was now watching Remus a bit wearily. Had Sirius just unwittingly encountered yet _another_ mudblood? That would make _three_ in the course of a single afternoon. The first afternoon away from his parents! Come to think of it, the book Remus had been reading looked somewhat muggle… none of the pictures on the front cover were moving… 

Sirius blurted, before he could help himself, 

“Are your parents magical?” 

Remus took a while to respond but when he did, he answered in a very sharp tone, 

“Why does that matter?” 

Sirius didn’t need to answer this; it just _did_. Everything he knew about life, everything that his family had taught him and even his place in the world meant that it did. He muttered, guessing, 

“So they’re _not_ , then…” 

Remus countered, his tone laced with great dislike, 

“Actually, my Father is a wizard.” 

There was a sudden jolt all around them and the train lurched to a halt, ending it’s journey in a standstill. Without quite realising it, they’d arrived at Hogsmeade Station. Sirius could see activity already occurring on the platform with porters hurrying forward to open train doors and beyond their compartment, he could hear hundreds of pairs of feet walking towards the exits. 

Remus scooped up his book and was on his feet instantly. With one final glower in Sirius’s direction, he exited the compartment without another word. 

Sirius rolled his eyes. How was it that he’d already gotten on the wrong side of most people he’d encountered today? Maybe his Mother was right and he was difficult to like. 

He made a face, banishing the self-deprecating thought. He’d rue the day his Mother was actually _right_ about something. 

Sirius carefully pocketed his wand in his uniformed robe, precious cargo as it was, as he joined the throngs of students leaving the train. He felt a bit panicked for a moment as he wondered where he was supposed to go and whether he ought to try and find his cousins - but, being eleven, he was several heads shorter than most of the students milling around him and it was difficult to see much of anything. 

“ _Sirius!_ ” 

He turned at the sound of his name and saw Andromeda rushing towards him. He _instantly_ breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin! As she caught up to him, she began chattering away a-mile-a-minute, not letting him get a word in edgewise, 

“Did you have a good train ride with those boys? I met all Bella’s friends - they’re all quite nice and _very_ welcoming - they all said I’d suit being in Slytherin. The Greengrass sisters were in the carriage too and they weren’t as silly as their Mother after all, despite the dreadful impression she made on the platform this morning. Infact, Beatrice is really quite-” 

Sirius cut her off, conscious of the fact that the milling students around them had started to thin out significantly. He didn’t fancy being left behind, 

“That’s great, Andie, but where are we supposed to go?” 

Andromeda giggled (as was her custom), 

“Oh yes, Bella told me. First years take a special route up to the castle. We get ferried across in boats, apparently.” 

From further down the platform, someone was yelling above the din, 

“ _First years! First years! This way! Follow me! Come on now, first years! Don’t be shy!_ ” 

Sirius and Andromeda moved together, towards the commotion. They came across a _colossal_ man wearing a thick, brown leather overcoat who sported an enormously shaggy, bushy beard. He was the wildest-looking person Sirius had ever seen. He imagined his Aunt Druella would simply _faint_ at the sight of him - he looked too big to be allowed. 

It seemed Andromeda had the exact same thought, as they shared an identical smirk. 

The giant boomed down at the wide-eyed first years, holding a lantern aloft, 

“A’right, you lot? M'name’s Hagrid and I’m the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at ‘Hogwarts. We’ll be travelling to the castle by boat tonight! Stick in pairs and mind yer step on the walk down, it gets 'bit slippery after some rain.” 

Sirius and Andromeda walked together. The giant was right - it was frightfully muddy on the walk down to where the boats were docked. Sirius tried not to let the mud bother him too much, not even when it splattered on the hem of his trouser leg (Andromeda giggled, as she knew how much this would annoy her cousin). 

After reaching the boats, Sirius settled into the back of the closest one with Andromeda beside him. Two other boys sat in the front of their boat, on either side of the lantern, and glanced backwards. One of the boys nodded in greeting, then flashed Andromeda an agreeable smile, 

“Hello again, Andromeda.” 

Andromeda smiled back politely, 

“Hello Vincent. You haven’t had the opportunity to meet my cousin yet-” Andromeda gestured towards Sirius, “-this is Sirius Black.” 

Vincent reached his hand out and Sirius, feeling obliged, shook it. It all felt very formal. Like they were parroting the way their parents behaved at cocktail parties. 

“I’m Vincent Avery. This here is Nicholas Mulciber.” Vincent gestured to the boy sitting next to him, “My brother, Barnaby, introduced Andromeda and I on the train, earlier. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Sirius.” 

Sirius appraised the two boys. Nicholas Mulciber was quite an intimidating specimen. He looked _much_ older than eleven; he was big, beefy and had a distinctly thuggish look about him. Vincent, on the other hand, looked nearly as dainty as Narcissa. 

“Right.” Sirius responded stiffly, “Good to meet you, I suppose.” 

Vincent pressed, 

“You’re hoping to be sorted into Slytherin too, no doubt?” 

Sirius answered, 

“No doubt.” 

He’d replied with the barest hint of sarcasm in his voice. It wasn’t enough for a stranger like Vincent Avery to pick-up on, but Andromeda noticed immediately. She stared at Sirius in bewilderment. Sirius avoided her eyes. 

The giant, Hagrid, was yelling from his own boat - where he was standing up, _very_ precariously, as it shuddered and swayed under his weight - and was waving at the rest of the boats, much like a conductor before an orchestra, 

“Right then, we're all in? No more than four ter a boat, yeah? Good - all together now! One, two, three- FORWARD!” 

There was a collective, “ _Oooo!_ ” from all the first years, as the boats took off from where they were docked. The boats magically glided across a vast, unknown expanse of dark water, barely making a ripple in the surface as they moved. 

Andromeda leaned closer to Sirius and whispered, so that Avery and Mulciber wouldn’t overhear, 

“What did you mean by-” 

Sirius fobbed her off, 

“I was just joking. Leave it, Andie.” 

While it looked like Andromeda wasn’t at all ready to abandon the subject, another collective and louder “ ** _Oooooo!_** ” arose amongst the first years. 

They’d passed a thicket of trees and there, on the horizon, perched atop a mountain was Hogwarts Castle. It was _magnificent_. The moon illuminated the gargantuan castle’s many turrets, towers and rambling battlements. 

There was an awed, collective silence as the first years gazed up at the castle. Their boats continued to glide towards the mountain Hogwarts was situated upon and the castle loomed on the cliffs overhead, growing impossibly large above. Hagrid suddenly yelled, 

“Mind yer heads!” 

The first years all bowed their heads as their boats ferried them underneath the cliffs. They passed through a curtain of ivy, which made more of the first years exclaim another impressed “ _Oooooo!_ ”, as it concealed a wide opening in the cliff face and a long tunnel. Sirius could swear he could hear hundreds of students above him, all moving through the castle, which seemed to be directly above their heads. The boats finished their journeys by docking obediently in an underground harbour. 

As soon as he was able, Sirius clambered out onto a pebbled shore and then helped Andromeda alight from her side of the boat. The group of first years were all silent - Sirius wasn’t sure whether it was due to overwhelming excitement, or horribly gnawing nerves. He felt both, rather acutely. 

The silent first years followed Hagrid up several flights of flagged, ancient stone steps and they all crowded around him as he stopped outside a pair of impossibly enormous oak front doors. Hagrid knocked on the castle doors three times - the booming sound sending a collective thrill through all the first years. 

As the doors opened, the children were greeted with their first glimpse into the interior of the castle. The Entrance Hall was so gigantic, so utterly _huge_ that Sirius couldn’t even see the ceiling - it felt immeasurably vast. There was a splendid marble staircase directly before them and a pair of large double doors to their right. Sirius could hear activity behind the doors and he was quite sure that the rest of the student body was waiting for them, just beyond. 

He gulped and Andromeda grabbed his hand. He clung back, gripping her nervously. 

As the first years were shepherded inside the castle doors, Sirius spied a solitary figure waiting for them besides the marble staircase. The witch was wearing deep, midnight blue robes, square spectacles and a pointed black witches cap. As Sirius moved nearer, he noted the witches' extremely stern expression and that her mouth was pursed tightly as she surveyed the first years. The witch first spoke to Hagrid, her tone clipped and tart, 

“Thank you Hagrid, I will take things from here." 

Hagrid waved at all of the first years enthusiastically, then ambled off. Most couldn't muster a smile in response. Although the first years were already silent, either through nerves or excitement - the silence somehow deepened before the witch spoke again, 

"Good evening, first years. Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My name is Professor McGonagall and I am the Deputy Headmistress.” 

The witch paused at this point to cast an appraising, sweeping gaze over the first years before her. She resumed quickly, 

“Before you can join the rest of the school, you all will need to be sorted into your houses through the sorting ceremony. We have four houses at Hogwarts - Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. While you attend Hogwarts, your house will be something like your family away from home. Your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose you house points. At the end of each school year, the Headmaster awards the House Cup to the house who has collected the most points. This is a great honour and I only hope you will all be assets to the house you are chosen for. Now, please follow me.” 

Andromeda squeezed Sirius’s hand as they followed Professor McGongall. Both cousins were still gripping on rather tight to one another. The professor led the first years to a small annexe off the side of the entrance hall - Sirius guessed this was an anti-chamber to the hall beyond, where he could now hear hundreds of other students talking and moving inside. 

It was obvious now that all the first years were silent out of nerves rather than excitement. 

As the first years gathered in the anti-chamber, Sirius let go of Andromeda’s hand to pull his wand out of his robes. He didn’t at _all_ feel ready to battle whatever Siberian beast lay ahead, but he thought it would help to at least be prepared and to get into some sort of defensive duelling stance. 

Professor McGonagall noticed Sirius's movement and immediately chided, her tone scandalised, 

“Excuse me, what do you think you're doing? Please put your wand away at _once!_ There’s absolutely no need for that.” 

Sirius stared up at the professor in confusion, aware that nearly everyone in the small anti-chamber was gawking at him. McGonagall's eyes narrowed. Sirius slowly put his wand away, with a nervous, sidelong glance at Andromeda. She looked stricken. 

Were they supposed to battle the beast _without_ magic? That hardly seemed fair! 

The professor addressed the rest of the first years, her tone noticeably more steely and disapproving than before, 

“Please wait here a moment. I will be back momentarily. And nobody - I repeat _nobody_ \- is to remove their wand from their pockets.” 

Professor McGonagall then strode out of the room, leaving the first years alone. There was half a beat of silence after the professor left, when someone called out at Sirius. It was the mudblood Sirius had seen earlier on the train - the one with the blonde hair and pleasant smile (and cockney accent), 

“What’d ya pull out your wand for?” 

Andromeda immediately came to Sirius’s defence, stating in a haughty sort of voice, 

“Because of the Siberian beast, _of course!_ ” 

A nervous giggle went around. Some first years were staring at Andromeda and Sirius in abject horror. Others were rolling their eyes in disbelief. 

Professor McGonagall then swept back into the chamber and she was carrying a very old, shabby, pointed hat in her hands. She glanced around at all the first years, probably to ensure nobody had _actually_ drawn their wand in her absence, then commanded, 

“Please follow me.” 

With a swish of her midnight blue robes, she led the children out from the anti-chamber and into the Great Hall. 

Sirius’s eyes widened, boggling at the sight. The first years had entered a _cavernous_ Hall that was lit by thousands, upon thousands of candles, which were floating and suspended in mid-air above their heads. The golden candle-light illuminated four long tables of hundreds of students who were all staring at the shuffling group of small, frightened first years. Over on the very far-right side of the Hall was Bellatrix, seated amongst other students dressed in silver and green; the Slytherins. She was nearly standing up in her seat, straining and trying to look out for Sirius and Andromeda. When Bellatrix spotted them she shot them both a conspiratorial wink and nudged the dishwater blonde girl seated next to her, pointing them both out. 

Andromeda sent her sister a shy wave in response. Sirius just gulped. 

As the first years trudged up the aisle following in Professor McGonagall's wake, they were brought before a High Table populated with adults and which was facing the rest of the Hall- the other professors. In the middle of the table was Headmaster Dumbledore; Sirius recognised him from his Chocolate Frog card. He had masses of silvery white hair, deep purple robes and was smiling enormously at all the nervous first years, from behind half-moon spectacles. 

McGonagall shepherded the last of the first years in front of the High Table, so that they were standing in a crowd and facing the rest of the school. 

A deep and significant hush fell over the entire school, as McGonagall waved her wand and a small stool was produced from thin air. She then placed the shabby-looking hat she’d been carrying and placed it on top of the stool. 

It felt like everyone in the Great Hall was holding their collective breath, waiting for _something_ \- when, quite suddenly, a rip appeared at the brim of the hat and.. the hat started to _sing_ , 

_“I know I’m not much to look at,  
I’m covered in muck and splat!  
But I’m the Hogwarts sorting hat,  
And you’ll find **none** as clever as me!  
_

_So try me on, you’ll soon agree,  
And I will then decree,  
What’s in your mind, for I can see,  
You’ll find **none** as clever as me!  
_

_I’ve capped them all, and I’ll cap them again,  
As I was created by leaders amongst men;  
Bold Gryffindor, who was brave and loyal,  
Fair Hufflepuff, who was unafraid of toil,  
Wise Ravenclaw, who prized intelligence and wit,  
Shrewd Slytherin, who ensured traditions would always fit.  
_

_Stick me on your head, I’ll soon let you know,_  
_Where you belong, I’ll tell you where to go!_  


_Because I’m the Hogwarts sorting hat and you’ll find **none** as clever as me!”_

The Hall burst into thunderous applause; some students even stood to give the hat a standing ovation. In amongst the cacophony of claps and delighted cheers, Andromeda tugged on Sirius’s robe sleeve insistently. She whispered hurriedly in his ear, 

“What does all _that_ mean? Where is the Siberian beast we’re supposed to battle?” 

Before Sirius had time to answer, McGonagall was shushing away the last of the din, so that silence could once again resume. She then produced a very long scroll from her inner robe and spoke directly to the first years, 

“First years - when I call out your name, you will step forward and place the sorting hat on your head. You will then join your new house table, once sorted.” 

Andromeda hissed furiously in Sirius’s ear, 

“Bella _lied_ to us! But she was right about the boats, so I thought - **oh!** I feel so foolish! We’re going to have to get her back later in the Slytherin dormitories-” 

Sirius caught Bellatrix’s eye from across the hall. She stuck her tongue out at him, very childishly, and the blonde girl next to her was shaking with laughter. 

Sirius frowned hugely. Trying on a hat was a piece of _cake_ , regardless of if hundreds of people were watching and if the shabby, dirty hat was going to touch his hair. He'd much prefer that to battling a _Siberian beast!_ There was no doubt in his mind that he would be exacting his revenge upon Bellatrix at some stage... 

Professor McGonagall read out the first name on her scroll, and Sirius’s head swivelled back to watch, not wanting to miss a moment of the sorting process. 

“Avery, Vincent!” 

The boy Sirius had met during the boat-ride to the underground harbour paraded forward. He sat down, in a _very_ dignified and lofty manner upon the stool, and McGonagall placed the sorting hat over his head. The sorting hat had barely been on Avery’s head for ten seconds, before it cried out, 

_“Slytherin!”_

Sirius watched as the Slytherin table erupted into acclamation, Bellatrix included. Vincent waltzed over to the Slytherins and sat at the end of the table where an older boy - most likely his older brother, Barnaby Avery - leaned over to clap him on the back, proudly. 

“Begbie, Gerald!” 

A very small boy with curly hair and dark skin stepped forward and hurried towards the stool. He looked petrified as Professor McGonagall placed the sorting hat on his head. The hat took longer to decide this time. It was nearly a full minute before the hat declared, 

_“Ravenclaw!”_

The table next to Slytherin burst into applause as Gerald made his way over to sit amongst the blue and bronze clad Ravenclaw students. 

“Black, Andromeda!” 

Whispers broke out immediately. The Black name commanded that level of notoriety, after all. 

Sirius felt his cousin stiffen beside him. With one final desperate and terrified glance back at Sirius, Andromeda stepped forward. She folded herself to sit on the stool with more dignity and grace than Vincent had earlier been able to muster, as McGonagall placed the sorting hat on her head. Sirius could see Bellatrix standing ontop of her seat, trying to get a good look at her sister. 

If the hat had taken a relatively long time to sort Gerald Begbie, the length of time it took with Andromeda was doubled. _Tripled_ , even. Everyone’s eyes were glued to Andromeda and more whispers had broken out along the length of the Hall. As Sirius watched his cousin being sorted, he had a very nasty thought - had the sorting hat _always_ been able to sort every witch and wizard it’d come across? The hat had gone on about how clever it was in it’s song earlier, but what if Andromeda was an exception and it wasn’t able to sort her? What would happen then? What would her parents do? 

And... what if it happened to him? 

All of a sudden, the hat decreed in an authoritative voice, 

_“Slytherin!”_

McGonagall removed the hat from Andromeda’s head and Sirius saw her exhale a noticeable, body-wracking sigh of relief. She skipped off towards the Slytherin table - who were all cheering extremely loudly, even louder than they had done for Vincent Avery - and Bellatrix shoved someone out of the way so that she could sit by her sister. 

Sirius knew he’d soon be joining them both in a few moments, in the spare seat on Andromeda’s otherside. 

“Black, Sirius!” 

Again, more whispers broke out at the sound of the Black surname. Sirius stumbled forward; his legs felt as though they were made of jelly and would collapse at any moment. As he trudged towards where McGonagall stood waiting, holding the sorting hat aloft and ready, he noticed someone give him a thumbs up from his left-hand side periphery. 

It was James Potter - the boy he’d talked and laughed with earlier on the train. In amongst the grim and ashen-grey faces of the crowd of nervous first years, James looked strangely relaxed. He flashed Sirius a huge grin. 

Sirius, despite himself, smiled back. 

However, as he sat himself down on the stool, the last thing Sirius saw before the hat fell over his eyes was Andromeda mouthing at him from her place at the Slytherin table, “ _Good luck!_ ” 

As Sirius’s vision was plunged into darkness, he waited half a beat for something to happen. A shrewd voice sounded in his ear, 

_“Well now! **This** is interesting. Very interesting. A brilliant mind... yes, you're very capable, indeed. Plenty of bravery, grit and daring. Nerve teetering on the faintly reckless, actually. A great propensity for love and affection. But most of all, you're unwaveringly loyal. Interesting. Not at all what I expected from a Black. Your cousin just before was difficult to sort to be sure, for entirely different reasons, but you seem quite straight forward.”_

Sirius couldn’t help but think, 

“Just say Slytherin, so I can get it over with.” 

The voice, having read his mind, replied with a tone of surprise, 

_“Slytherin? Oh no, that’s not where you truly belong.”_

Sirius felt incredibly confused and the voice continued, 

_“Slytherin is not what you really want either, is it?”_

Sirius stiffened. 

Everything Sirius had ever wanted had been gifted to him on a silver platter. He'd enjoyed a life of opulence - but the privilege was conditional. To exist in his world, he had to strictly follow the traditions and examples set down by his ancestors and family. Everything _about_ Sirius inevitably relayed back to _"Toujours Pur"_ and furthering the glory of the most noble and ancient house. People made decisions for him all the time; in fact, Sirius wasn't sure he'd ever made a single decision for himself, in his entire life. 

And now, Sirius realised with a thrill, it was as if the sorting hat was actually asking him to make the choice. The first _real_ choice in his life. 

And he wanted, more than anything, to _belong_. 

It all happened very quickly, then. With that final thought, the hat screamed all around him, 

_“Gryffindor!”_


	5. Stricta Dormire

_Wednesday 1st September 1971 (Continued)_

Instead of the ear-splitting applause that had greeted the other three classmates before him when the sorting hat had delivered its verdict, there was a deafening silence. Professor McGonagall removed the hat from where it’d slipped down over his face and Sirius could now see the entire student body, all several hundred of them, gawking at him. Some were standing, clamouring over their classmates heads, to get a better look at him. 

Sirius stood up uncertainly from the three-legged stool, his knees knocking together as he shook. The silence continued as everyone watched on in disbelief; it was as though the entire Great Hall was holding its collective breath, unsure quite what to do.

But then - the deafening silence was broken by a single, solitary “ _whoop!_ ” in elation, from somewhere behind Sirius. 

Sirius wheeled around in surprise. 

It was James Potter - who was now clapping madly - and positively _beaming_ at Sirius. 

It was as if this lone cry of jubilation had broken a spell. The table on the very far left of the Hall burst into thunderous, raucous applause, in response. 

Sirius began to walk unsteadily towards the Gryffindors, who welcomed him over to their fold with boisterous cheers and congratulations. He shakily sat down opposite a very pretty second year girl with fly-away hair and a short fringe, who offered him a lopsided grin. He couldn’t seem to work his facial muscles, even to smile politely back.

Infact, he couldn’t feel his extremities at all. What had just happened? What had he _**done?**_

Sirius barely registered that the sorting ceremony had continued and that following him, a “ _Bones, Amelia!_ ” was sorted into Hufflepuff very promptly. He could _feel_ Andromeda and Bellatrix’s piercing gaze upon him from the Slytherin table across the Hall. He didn’t have the courage to meet their eyes and answer the multitude of questions he was sure to find there - despite what the sorting hat had just whispered in his ear about having plenty of bravery, grit and daring. Or _whatever_ it’d said. He felt like a fraud. And like he’d made a _colossal_ mistake. 

When an “ _Evans, Lily!_ ” was the next first year to be sorted into Gryffindor, Sirius - having been trapped in his own thoughts and not following the sorting ceremony closely - automatically moved up the table to make room for the newcomer. As the girl approached the table, he caught her eye and felt somewhat aghast as he realised _who_ exactly she was - it was the redheaded mudblood from the train! 

The girl appraised him briefly, with every dislike evident on her features, and deliberately sat next to the pretty second year instead on the opposite side of the table away from Sirius. Sirius’s chin jutted out haughtily at this snub and he decided to avoid the mudblood’s eyes entirely.

Sirius, mainly to escape his own panicked thoughts, resolved to watch the rest of the sorting ceremony - although he resolutely refused to let his eyes wander over to the Slytherin table. He could still feel both of his cousin’s stares upon him and he was still too frightened to look across the expanse of the Hall and face either of them. He didn’t dare look over at the Slytherins as “ _Arabella, Greengrass!_ ” was sorted into Hufflepuff - much to the mystification of everyone in the Hall, though this incredulity was not at _all_ comparable to the deadly silent, mortified reaction Sirius had received - or even when her twin, “ _Beatrice, Greengrass!_ ” was the next student after Andromeda to join Slytherin house. 

The next first year to join the Gryffindor table was Remus Lupin. Sirius watched, alongside the rest of the school, as the sorting hat deliberated atop of Remus’s light brown head of hair. The hat didn’t take as long to deliberate as it had done for Andromeda - but it was still at _least_ three minutes of suspended, anticipated quiet - before the hat cried, “ _Gryffindor!_ ” and the red and gold clad students erupted into hearty cheers.

Sirius clapped politely as Lupin walked over to the table. Remus Lupin, like Lily Evans before him, also flashed Sirius a look of great dislike and refused to sit next to him. Remus sat next to Lily instead - she congratulated him cheerfully as he sat down and they started to chat animatedly together. 

“Wonderful.” Sirius muttered under his breath, glaring at the pair of them. 

Two of his new housemates already despised him. It wasn’t exactly the _best_ start to his Gryffindor career...

Two more Gryffindors joined the table in quick succession after Lupin. A very smiley, dark skinned girl, “ _Macdonald, Mary!_ ” joined the lionhearted table to tumultuous applause, followed immediately by “ _McKinnon, Marlene!_ ”. Little, blonde, Marlene McKinnon - who Sirius already made an impression upon during the journey from Platform Nine and Three Quarters - like Lupin and Evans, also didn’t look pleased to see Sirius sitting at the Gryffindor table. She sat on Mary Macdonald’s other side and introduced herself to Lupin, who was seated opposite. Lupin, Evans, Macdonald and McKinnon all started talking together happily and Sirius felt quite on the outer. 

Professor McGongall continued to read down her scroll. “ _Meadows, Dorcas!_ ” joined Ravenclaw after only seconds of the hat being placed on her blonde head, followed by “ _Mulciber, Nicholas!_ ” who joined Slytherin. The hat barely touched Mulciber’s crown, before it declared the burly boy would join the serpents. McGonagall then announced, 

“Pettigrew, Peter!”

Peter trudged forward at the sound of his name, twitching nervously. He sat down, shaking noticeably and McGonagall placed the sorting hat on his mousey-blonde head. The minutes dragged by - this was the longest deliberation the sorting hat had taken _yet._ Much, _much_ longer than Andromeda’s sorting had taken. The Great Hall had broken out into whispers and giggles, as the minutes continued to crawl by. A few second year boys were muttering together on Sirius’s right hand side, 

“Blimey, I think we’ve got a hatstall!” 

Another second year boy murmured, as he glanced at his wrist-watch, 

“Yes we do - it’s official! It’s been nearly twelve whole minutes!”

Sirius turned to ask them curiously, 

“What’s a hatstall?”

The pretty second year girl sitting opposite Sirius and who’d been following the whispers, answered in a hushed undertone quite matter-of-factly, 

“It’s when the sorting hat takes longer than five minutes to sort someone. It only happens every fifty years or so - it’s _really_ rare. There’s been quite a few close calls today, though. Like your sister.”

Sirius was about to correct the second-year - why did _everyone_ think Andromeda was his sister? - when the sorting hat cut through the buzz of whispering students and cried out, 

“ _Gryffindor!_ ”

Sirius, alongside the rest of his house, broke out into jubilant cheers. Peter almost fell over his feet as he hurried over to the Gryffindors and collapsed into a seat beside Marlene, who happily thumped him on the back. Peter’s face was white and he looked as though he was in total shock. Sirius wondered, curiously, what the hat had whispered in his ear. 

McGonagall then called, 

“Potter, James!”

Sirius sat up straighter in his seat. _This_ was really the only other sorting he was particularly interested in watching. 

As soon as his name was called, James sauntered forward with an easy confidence that exceeded his eleven years. He was grinning widely as he sat down on the stool and McGonagall placed the sorting hat on his head - the _only_ first year so far to actually look happy about participating in the sorting ceremony.

Like Nicholas Mulciber, the sorting hat had barely touched James’s untidy black hair, when it declared, 

“ _Gryffindor!_ ”

The Gryffindors sprung into booming, deafening applause, Sirius among them. James joined the Gryffindor table, looking thoroughly pleased with himself, and sat down in the empty seat next to Lupin. James caught Sirius’s eye from further along the table and gave him another thumbs up, which Sirius returned with a large grin. James was then pulled into conversation by Marlene, who was seated opposite him, and Peter, Lupin, Macdonald and Evans joined in. 

Sirius watched all the new Gryffindors talking together without him - somewhat resentfully - wishing his surname began with a “P”, so he could sit nearer James. 

The sorting continued. The final Gryffindor to join the table was a girl with golden blonde hair, “ _Vance, Emmeline!_ ”. She sat on Peter’s other side and flashed all her new classmates a nervous smile. Sirius noticed right away she had bucked teeth - they looked too large for her small face - but aside from that, she was really very pretty indeed. 

Once the last first year student, “ _Zheng, Isla!_ ” was sorted into Hufflepuff, Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and collected the sorting hat. She waved her wand and the stool vanished into thin air. 

Professor Dumbledore then stood up and the Great Hall fell instantly silent. He approached a podium decorated with a golden, fierce-looking owl and beamed around at all the students, his light blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. 

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!” 

Dumbledore paused to smile down at the newer, first year students - with something of the air of a proud grandfather gazing down upon his progeny. The student body remained quietly captivated as he continued, 

“Now, for the start of term notices! For first years - and some of those older students who perhaps need reminding-” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled with amusement, “- the Forbidden Forest is strictly out of bounds. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, would also like me to remind you all that magic is not permitted in the corridors between lessons. Mr. Filch has taken the trouble to write up a list of banned items, which are also not permitted in the corridors, which he has pinned on his office door. Thank you, Mr. Filch.” 

A greasy-haired man, seated at the very end of the staff table, who wore an annoyed look on his face nodded subserviently to Dumbledore. Sirius supposed this man was Filch, the school caretaker, and judging by the hostile looks the majority of the student body were shooting his way, he was not well liked. 

Dumbledore continued, his tone noticeably more cheerful as he announced, 

“I’m pleased to report that we have two new fantastic members of staff joining our illustrious faculty this year. First - please join me in welcoming Professor Flitwick, who will be replacing Professor Smolski as Head of Charms.” 

Dumbledore gestured and pointed out a tiny wizard with dark hair and a moustache who was seated near the middle of the High Table and dressed in bottle green robes. Flitwick had to stand on his chair to actually be seen by the student population - who politely applauded - as he took a deep bow. Dumbledore continued merrily,

“Welcome Professor Flitwick! Now - Professor Smolski has asked me to kindly thank those of you who have written to her over the summer imploring her to reconsider her decision to retire - but after 68 years of teaching at Hogwarts, Professor Smolski is - in her words - “ _absolutely pooped_ ” - and will spend her well-earned retirement sunning in the tropics.”

Dumbledore chortled to himself, before adding, 

“Our second addition to the staff cohort is Professor Louella, who will be replacing Professor Pango as Head of Defence Against the Dark Arts.” 

A far more rowdy, uproarious applause followed Professor Louella’s announcement, as opposed to the polite tittle that had followed Flitwick’s introduction. Sirius could certainly understand why; Professor Louella was… well, there was no other word to describe her - _glorious_. 

She was far younger than the rest of the staff cohort - Sirius guessed she was in her mid to early thirties at most - with large, doe eyes, platinum blonde hair and plump, sultry lips. As she stood to her feet to give a discreet bow, Sirius couldn’t help but stare - _Merlin above_ , her figure! Her soft, supple curves were hidden by scarlet robes which were _so clingy_ … it was any wonder they were allowed. Sirius had, really, only _just_ become aware of such "things" - things like clingy robes on pretty witches - and he felt a pleasurable jolt in the lower region of his stomach. 

It seemed all the boys around Sirius felt the same way - they jeered loudly, wolf-whistling and howling in furious, boisterous delight. 

The second year girl seated opposite Sirius huffed in obvious displeasure and Sirius could see Marlene McKinnon further down the table roll her eyes at the fuss the male student population was making. 

Professor Louella resumed her seat and Dumbledore waved away the last of the cat calls, 

“Yes, thank you, thank you. And welcome again to our new Professors. Right - well, nothing more to say other than - _dig in!_ ” 

A collective, happy gasp erupted around the hall as all four of the house tables were suddenly populated by dishes upon dishes of steaming, piping hot food. The tables seemed to _groan_ under the weight of their dinner - fat, golden potatoes, roast chickens and turkeys, toad in the hole, buttered peas and carrots, shepherds pie, gravy, salads of every variety, crispy bacon, Yorkshire puddings - every dish smelled _so_ phenomenal and mouth-watering, that Sirius had a hard time deciding what he should sample first. 

After a predictably short length of time, Sirius firmly decided that the shepherd’s pie looked most irresistible - so he pulled the pan towards him and started adding food onto his own plate. As he then began to help himself to a mound of potatoes, Sirius felt a prickling, uncomfortable feeling on the back of his neck. It was the eerily unconscious kind of feeling, where you instinctively somehow _know_ that someone is staring at you... 

He looked up and caught an older girl’s gaze from further down the Gryffindor table. She was probably a fourth or fifth year and she stopped her whispers mid-sentence, clearly caught out, as she locked eyes with Sirius. She hurriedly turned bodily away from Sirius and began muttering darkly with another girl next to her. It was obvious the pair of them were gossiping about him. 

Sirius’s grey eyes hardened, but otherwise he outwardly remained impassive. Controlling his features to always appear aloof or indifferent was something he’d learnt at a very young age. Emotions weren’t tolerated in his household, after all. And the fact that Sirius was particularly adept at always remaining inscrutable was of great aggravation to his Mother - who would _love_ an excuse to reprimand him, should her incessant jabs and taunts land the way she actually wanted them to - but Sirius had learnt over the years to not ever give her the satisfaction. 

Fortunately, nobody seated directly near Sirius seemed to be whispering about him. It was perhaps just the older students who were more weary, or at least aware, of the Black Family and who exactly Sirius was. The second year’s on Sirius’s right were chatting animatedly around mouthfuls of food, paying him no attention at all. A rather well-built boy, who was seated right beside Sirius, with a loud, carrying voice, spoke around a chipolata, 

“Corr- _Professor Louella_ , eh? How the hell are we supposed to get any work done this year?! She’s _gorgeous!_ ”

The second year girl sitting opposite Sirius answered the boy quickly, 

“You don’t _do_ any work anyway, Michael, so it’ll hardly be a change for you.” 

Michael spluttered - spraying the boy opposite him with bits of sausage (the poor boy in the firing-line grimaced), 

“Pffffft! _Whatever_ Lizzie. You’re just sore ‘cause you were _Professor Pango’s pet._ ” 

Sirius smirked at the use of alliteration. Although he had to suppress a shudder at the boy’s use of his knife and fork - it was clear nobody in Sirius’s immediate vicinity had been taught any table manners. 

The girl just made a face, 

“That’s neither here nor there. It’s just a shame Pango’s gone… he was nice. Nicer than the other teachers, anyway.”

Michael sniggered, 

“I’m sure Professor Louella is _nice._ Infact, I want to find out just how _nice_ she really is.” 

A few of the older boys along the table gwaffed at the lewd joke, as Michael continued with more bravado still,

“I think Defence is going to be the only class I actually show up to this year!”

There were more laughs at this omission and even Sirius couldn’t help but smirk again, as he tucked into his shepherd’s pie. Michael was clearly the class clown, judging by the rapt audience he held.

The pretty second year girl - Lizzie, apparently - scoffed and added in an undertone,

"You're _twelve_ , Michael."

But everyone, including Michael, ignored Lizzie's disparaging comment completely. The boy who’d, unfortunately, been sprayed with sausage earlier, instead asked Michael eagerly,

“What do you reckon, Mike? Louella’s got to be part Veela, right?”

“What’s a Veela?” 

This pointed, yet curious question came from further down the table on the left - from Lily Evans. She, like Sirius, had also obviously been listening in to the older students and was staring at the older boys with a faint frown on her face. 

Lizzie answered Lily immediately, 

“A Veela is a magical creature that takes on the appearance of a very beautiful human woman. They’re from Bulgaria, originally, but you can find them all over Europe now. Not England that much; maybe Wales, in certain regions. They’re similar to Sirens - well, except that Sirens are _actually_ related to Merpeople - and Veela’s don’t tend to inhabit water. Although, in Slavic-mythology they are said to live near bodies of water and have power over storms. But I don't think that's anything other than myth and not based in fact.”

Lizzie said all of this very fast and Lily’s green eyes widened, overwhelmed with the barrage of information. It sounded as though Lizzie had regurgitated a textbook, verbatim. Infact, most of the table who were within earshot were staring at Lizzie - who’s cheeks had gone an embarrassed, bright pink under the scrutiny.

“Did you spend the _entire_ summer reading, Rawlinson?” Michael called, sniggering. Quite a few people laughed. 

Lizzie’s cheeks bloomed pinker. Despite being obviously embarrassed, Lizzie’s voice didn’t waver as she retorted primly, 

“I don’t doubt you’re jealous, Hardcastle - I heard you actually _can’t_ read.”

The table erupted in laughter and it was now Michael’s turn to look embarrassed. It looked like Michael was about to reply, when the boy sitting on his other side interjected in exasperation, and around a thick Yorkshire accent,

“Merlin’s saggy balls you two - we’ve been in the castle five _bleedin’_ minutes! Give your bickering a rest. Please. For all our sake!” 

Curiously, Lizzie’s cheeks went even pinker still. Michael, however, looked utterly unbothered, 

“Yeah, whatever. So, how was your summer, Tommy?”

The second year boys were immediately immersed into an animated conversation about their respective summers - Lizzie and the captive audience watching the scene were all but forgotten. The audience lost interest; people drifted into their own conversations up and down the table, but Lizzie’s cheeks were still pink. Sirius vaguely thought about saying something, he wasn’t particularly sure _what_ , exactly, when again - Lily Evans intercepted. 

“I thought that was really interesting. You know an awful lot about magical creatures.”

Sirius was struck by how gentle and, frankly, how kind Lily’s voice was. Lizzie’s cheeks softened, returning to their usual colour as she replied, 

“Oh. Thank you.” 

She flashed Lily a toothy-grin before adding in a slightly self-deprecating, though good humoured way,

“I’ve somehow earned the reputation of being a bit of a “boffin” around the common-room, so if you need help with your assignments this year, I’m really more than happy to help.”

Lily replied with a large, sincere smile, 

“I don’t see anything wrong with that! Everything is just so _fascinating_ \- I actually did spend the last half of my summer reading all our textbooks. But I’m muggleborn, you know, and... I feel like I’m probably quite behind everyone else, so it’s only a good thing that I’m as prepared as I possibly can be.”

It sounded as though this was something Lily was genuinely concerned about, but was trying her best to mask her worry on the subject. Lizzie replied almost instantly, her tone reassuring, 

“You really aren’t! You needn’t fret about that. _Everyone_ is starting fresh, because nobody is allowed to practise magic at home until they’re of age - when they’re seventeen. So, really, everybody is in the same boat.” 

Sirius moved the peas around his plate dispassionately as he eavesdropped on the girl’s chatter. He thought about the day before and Bellatrix’s disparaging comments around underage magic and flouting magical law - he couldn’t help but smirk ever so slightly at the memory. 

Everyone around him had been absorbed into conversations, but he felt separate and _different_ from the rest of the Gryffindors, and unable to join in. So much for finding his place and “ _belonging_ ”. 

He could still feel his cousin’s eyes fixed on him; their joint gazes from the Slytherin table boring a hole into the back of his head. And he was still too afraid to meet their eyes... 

As dessert arrived - and Sirius loaded his new crockery up with a generous helping of trifle - the Hogwarts ghosts glided into the Great Hall. A few of the first years shrieked in alarm as the grey spectres floated by. Sirius, however, was thoroughly used to ghosts and barely blinked at their appearance. 

His Great-Aunt Lycoris, who died in 1965 when Sirius was only six years old from an unfortunate incident involving her misfired wand, had chosen to remain behind on earth as a ghost. She would often haunt Grimmauld Place and had developed a nasty habit of breathing down Sirius’s neck as he tried to sleep. Lycoris wasn’t tied to any earthly spot in particular and unlike usual ghosts she didn’t haunt the place where she died or even where she’d lived whilst alive. Instead, Lycoris seemed content to float eerily through the Black’s ancestral house, silently watching her youngest relatives. She also often appeared at his cousin’s Black Manor from time to time, always silent and always watching. Sometimes, when Sirius was feeling particularly lonely and alienated from the rest of his family, he didn’t half-mind Lycrois’s strange and unnerving company. At least she never _said_ anything reproachful, even if her expression most of the time seemed disapproving. 

Once dessert had been magically cleared away, Sirius was starting to feel very sleepy indeed. It was hard to believe he’d woken up at Black Manor that morning - even the train ride from London seemed like an age ago. 

Professor Dumbledore stood at his podium and a peaceful hush fell across the Great Hall, 

“Now that we are all suitably stuffed, it’s time for bed! Lessons start tomorrow and we can’t allow your brains to stop working from sleep deprivation. Prefects- please show your new first years to your house dormitories. Pip-pip!”

And with that, hundreds of students began to amble to their feet. The din that followed Dumbledore’s dismissal was a cacophony of benches being scrapped across flagstone and deafening chatter, punctuated occasionally by shouts of elation - as the population of Hogwarts all made their exit into the Entrance Hall and the castle beyond. Above the noise, a shrill voice rang out quite close-by to Sirius, 

“ _First year Gryffindors! First year Gryffindors! Please come here-_ ”

Sirius made his way through the teeming crowd towards the voice and appraised the owner once she came into view. She had dark, cat-like eyes and her hair was scrapped rather severely off her face in a high pony-tail. A gleaming badge was affixed to her robes; red and gold and emblazoned with the letter “ _P_ ”. 

“Hello there.” 

The girl addressed the Gryffindor first years, who had started to amass around Sirius, in a bossy sort of way, 

“I’m your Gryffindor fifth year Prefect. My name’s Shideh Shafiq. Your other fifth year Gryffindor Prefect is Robert Orpington-”

Shideh gestured to the boy standing next to her, who was also wearing a Prefect badge. Robert Orpington had dark eyebrows and a well defined-jaw. He also looked far more approachable than Shideh, and he seemed to demonstrate this point by interrupting his colleague with a friendly grin, 

“-you’re all welcome to call me Robbie, by the way.”

Shideh looked thoroughly irritated that she’d been interrupted and shot Robbie a warning glance, 

“- _as I was saying_ , we are your Prefects.”

Shideh puffed up proudly, before continuing, 

“As student leaders, you can look to us to help you with any questions or concerns you might have during your first few months at Hogwarts. Prefects assist the Professors in keeping law and order and patrolling the corridors of Hogwarts - we can both award and dock house points, so our role is _very_ important indeed! Follow me, all of you, and I’ll lead you to Gryffindor Tower and our common-room and dormitories. As we walk, I will give you a brief history of Godric Gryffindor and our historic house.”

Shideh turned on her heel officiously, her pony-tail whipping around dangerously behind her, and started towards the Entrance Hall. It was up to the first years - and Robbie Orpington - to hurry to follow in her wake.

Sirius had formed an indifference to authority figures early in life. It was a natural by-product of being the heir to one of the most powerful families in the wizarding world - he’d learnt from a young age that he was the boss and didn’t have to answer to anyone. Therefore, he wasn’t particularly impressed by Shideh Shafiq’s speech about “student leaders” in the way he could see some of his fellow first years clearly were. Lily Evan’s green eyes had rounded exponentially in adoration and she seemed to be hanging off Shideh’s every word. In Sirius’s opinion, that sort of reaction was nothing short of mortifying. 

So, Sirius made no effort to ‘keep up’ with Shideh and the others. He slouched, hanging back and meandered forward at his own pace - not interested either way in hearing about the history of Godric Gryffindor, or whatever it was Shideh was talking about now, (“... _Godric was born in the first millennium and hailed from the West Country, in a moor which has now been renamed as Godric’s Hollow in his honour. Records seem to suggest his year of birth was 993 AD, however this is contested by-_ ”)

“You did it!” 

A voice sounded close to Sirius’s ear and he spun around to find James Potter, still wearing that beaming smile, standing quite close behind him. 

Sirius blinked, answering somewhat stupidly, 

“Did what?”

James grinned - if it were possible - more broadly, 

“Broke tradition! Like you said you would!”

Sirius couldn’t do much but offer James a weak smile in return. Sirius hadn’t recovered from the sorting ceremony and was still trying to quell his internal panic. James barely seemed to notice - instead he was gesturing ahead to where Shideh was progressing with creating a pathway through the crowd for the first years, 

“We’d better hurry up or we’ll get lost - my Dad told me that the staircases _move_ here-”

Sirius balked slightly- he didn’t like the sound of that. He was a bit funny about heights and falling off a moving staircase didn’t sound particularly fun. He jogged slightly, trying to keep up with James and the rest of the first years, who had moved through into the busy Entrance Hall. 

James immediately pulled Sirius back into conversation, 

“Anyway - I brought your sweeties and cloak with me. You left them behind in the compartment.” 

James suddenly produced Sirius’s very crumpled silk travelling cloak (Walburga would surely turn red with fury at the sight) and Sirius’s large collection of Fizzing Whizbees and other sweets, from a deep pocket in his robes. He handed the pile all over to Sirius, who pocketed everything into his own various robe pockets - somewhat greedily - all at once. 

Sirius felt incredibly sheepish and couldn’t quite make James’s eyes. It was very kind that James had remembered to bring him his belongings and he felt touched. As well as embarrassed for how their time in the compartment had ended. And annoyed, too. Because he felt misunderstood. He muttered a hasty thanks, as James continued to prattle away,

“Did you hear anything? You know, when McGonagall put the sorting hat on your head?”

Sirius nodded slowly and he answered quite cautiously, 

“Yes. It didn’t make much sense what it said… did it say anything to you?”

James shook his head, 

“All it said was - “ _This is simple; you were born to be in-_ ” and then it yelled out Gryffindor.” 

James sighed, as though he was terribly hard done by, 

“My mum told me that her sorting took _ages_ and that the hat told her all this stuff she still thinks about today! _Wish_ it'd said more to me.” 

Sirius answered, 

“Maybe your mum was a hatstall? Like Peter Pettigrew was in the ceremony, earlier.”

The crowd of first years had reached the grand marble staircase, opposite the enormous, oak front doors. As they started to ascend the staircase, James’s eyebrows knitted together and he glanced at Sirius in confusion, 

“Eh? What’s a hatstall?”

Sirius felt very knowledgeable as he started to relay what the second year girl, Lizzie Rawlinson, had told him only half an hour before, 

“Well, it’s when someone’s sorting takes more than- _**AHHHHH GEDDOFFF!**_ ”

Sirius had been grabbed from behind, by the scruff of his neck, and some unknown assailant was bodily _hauling_ him down the three steps he’d taken up the marble staircase. Sirius coughed and spluttered, choking against his collar and tie which were pressing angrily into his neck, and fell backwards down the stairs as the assailant continued to drag him down back into the Entrance Hall. 

James, who was facing the assailant, had valiantly cried out as all the commotion arose, 

“ _Oi!_ Get off him!” 

But the assailant didn’t reply. They instead continued to drag Sirius forcefully - Sirius’s writhing and thrashing against their grip did nothing but to make their grip even tighter and more painful - and pulled Sirius to a small alcove underneath the staircase. 

The assailant finally released their grip and Sirius, _mercifully_ , breathed in a gulp of air. His assailant stood in front of him suddenly, dominating his entire vision. 

It was Bellatrix. Despite being similar heights, she seemed to tower over him. And she looked **apoplectic**. 

Andromeda was standing directly behind her, wringing her hands nervously. Her large doe eyes darted around, watching the rest of the student population bustling through the Entrance Hall. Some milling students were shooting the trio of Black’s, who were partially hidden from sight in the recess of the underside of the staircase, odd looks - so, it was clear that Bellatrix had instructed her sister to stand-watch. Family discussions were not up for public scrutiny, after all. 

Bellatrix snarled, her grey eyes hardening to steel. She hissed under her breath,

“Explain yourself.”

Her voice shook with anger and it took all the nerve Sirius had to meet her glare. He didn’t need Bella to elaborate - they both knew why she was incensed; he hadn’t been sorted into Slytherin. 

He took a shaky breath, before blurting in a panicked undertone,

“I don’t know what happened, alright? I didn’t _choose_ to be- I-uh-” Sirius garbled, “-look, it’s _not my fault!_ Everything happened really quickly and then it was over and it’s now too late-”

Bellatrix cut him off violently, 

“It’s certainly not _too late_. We’re going to go see Dumbledore. Now. To put this right.”

She made to grab at Sirius’s collar again, but he nimbly darted out of her way - a lifetime of playing against her in Quidditch and rough-housing had prepared him for that moment. However, he put up his hands up in surrender and stated, 

“You don’t need to grab me! I’ll come with you willingly.”

All of sudden, James Potter pushed past Andromeda and crashed into the scene. James looked between Bellatrix and Sirius - who still had his hands up in surrender - and launched himself bravely to stand between the cousins. He yelled loudly and heroically, defending Sirius, 

“I said get **away** from him!”

Bellatrix drew her wand from her robe pocket. _Nobody_ had ever inserted themselves into private “family business” before and it was clear to Sirius that Bellatrix wouldn’t tolerate it. The fact that James was also yelling at the top of his lungs meant that their hissed undertones and intimate conversation were turning into a bit of a spectacle. Bella’s eyes flashed dangerously and her voice took on a menacing edge, 

“If you don’t move out of my way in the next five seconds little boy, I will _blast_ you out of the way…”

Both Sirius and Andromeda then spoke at the same time. Sirius yelped, quite sure Bellatrix really would make good on her threat,

“Bella! **Stop** it! James, c’mon- _move_ -”

While Andromeda whined, 

“Pssst! Bella! _A teacher!_ ”

But Andromeda’s warning had come too late. 

Professor McGonagall - who Sirius was beginning to suspect had a sixth sense for happening upon rule-breaking - was all of sudden right behind Bellatrix. She loomed over the children, her shrewd and stern eyes taking in all the details of the scene - flickering between Sirius, James, Andromeda, Bellatrix and finally resting on Bellatrix’s drawn wand and aggressive stance. Her tone was aghast,

“Bellatrix Black! Am I catching you _duelling_ on your first evening back at school? Put your wand away **_at once!_** ” 

It almost looked, for a split-second, like Bellatrix _wouldn’t_ comply with Professor McGonagall’s demand. She hesitated and something dark flashed dangerously in her light eyes - but then, the moment had passed as quickly as it came, and Bella slowly lowered her wand and pocketed it inside her robes. Bellatrix held a similar attitude to Sirius when it came to authority figures and it was evident from her sulky expression that she _loathed_ being told what to do. 

Professor McGonagall continued with her reprimand, 

“Now, I don’t know _what_ is going on here, but you all need to hurry along to your house dormitories immediately! You’ll never be able to find your common rooms at this rate. Bellatrix, you will escort your sister down to the dungeons this instant - or otherwise I will be speaking to Professor Slughorn and shall organise a weekend’s worth of detentions. As it is, I will be docking both Slytherin and Gryffindor house five points apiece for this-”

James spluttered, 

“But _Professor!_ That’s not fair-”

McGonagall rounded on him, 

“That’s enough! Slytherin and Gryffindor will _both_ be docked points for this incident. I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour in the school corridors. Now the two of you-”

Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed Sirius and James, 

“-will follow me. I shall take you to Gryffindor tower myself and ensure you don’t run into any more trouble.”

McGonagall turned back to Bellatrix and added in a final tone, 

“ **Now** \- Miss Black. Return to the dungeons with your sister at _once_.”

Sirius watched the petulant expression on Bellatrix’s face turn thunderous. She was furious, Sirius knew, because she couldn’t say or do what she wanted now that a teacher had intervened. The only thing Bella could do under McGonagall’s strict gaze was to shoot Sirius a look, which practically spelled out “ _ **this isn’t over!**_ ” 

Bellatrix grabbed Andromeda’s hand and started to pull her towards the opposite end of the Entrance Hall, to where Sirius presumed the entrance to the dungeons lay. Andromeda only had time to widen her eyes anxiously at Sirius before being dragged off - clearly horrified to find herself in the middle, between Bella and Sirius. Somewhere, Sirius knew, she _hated_ to be.

As soon as Bellatrix and Andromeda were out of sight, McGonagall barked angrily, 

“You two - follow me.”

Sirius and James hopped to attention at once and quickly followed the Deputy Headmistress up the sweeping marble staircase. The staircase was empty now; the last of the milling students having been scared away to their respective common-rooms by McGonagall's furiously cross expression. The group reached the first floor corridor in silence, however when they came upon the opening to the Grand Staircase - a structure _so_ enormous and spectacular - Sirius and James both gasped as they gazed upward at all the moving staircases. 

McGonagall acknowledged the boy’s wonderment with a stiff explanation, 

“Yes. This is the Grand Staircase. It’s the heart of Hogwarts and the easiest way to access the upper floors. It's a feat of architecture.”

Seeming to remember herself, she added sternly,

“No time to dawdle, keep moving you two.”

It seemed that despite her irritation with Sirius and James, she couldn’t help but use the moment to teach the two boys and display her pride in her school. James and Sirius exchanged a quick smirk, before resuming silence once again. 

As the three of them travelled upwards, mounting staircase after staircase, they passed hundreds of portraits in elaborate and adorned frames. The occupants of these portraits stared at James and Sirius in silent judgement - it seemed even the portraits knew they were in trouble. 

After climbing an impossible number of stairs, stalking through a large corridor and through to a separate passage, Sirius was about to break the silence and risk further admonishment from McGonagall to ask “ _are we there yet?!_ ” - when the trio came across a solitary portrait of a fat lady in a frilly pink, satin gown. 

The fat lady raised an eyebrow and asked in a drawl, 

“Password?”

McGonagall spoke at once, 

“ _Stricta Dormire_.”

The fat lady replied curtly, 

“Indeed!”

Suddenly, the fat lady's portrait swung forward and revealed a large, round hole in the wall.

McGonagall turned to face the first year's for a final rebuke, 

“I hope this is the last time I catch either of you behaving in such a manner. I don’t particularly enjoy taking points from my own house-”

Sirius’s eyes widened. He didn’t realise Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house.

“- _especially_ not on the first night of the new term, but I will do so again if I catch either of you breaking school rules. Duelling is strictly _not_ allowed. Neither is performing magic in the corridors outside of lessons. I expect better from Gryffindor students.” 

She stared them, her expression hard as nails, 

“What are your names?”

James answered dutifully, but in a quiet voice, 

“I’m James Potter, miss.”

Sirius replied sullenly, 

“Sirius Black.”

McGonagall nodded and continued with her lambasting, 

“I see. Don’t force me to remember your names for the _wrong reasons_. Now, get to bed. It’s almost curfew. The boys dormitories are up the staircase and on the left.”

McGonagall watched and waited while James, followed shortly after by Sirius, scrambled through the portrait hole. When Sirius turned to look behind him, the portrait had swung shut and blocked McGonagall and passage beyond from view.

He straightened up, just as James added,

“Wow… what a welcome to school, eh?” 

Sirius grinned. James mirrored his expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a welcome to school! If anyone is actually reading this - thank you. ♡


	6. The Missing Housepoints

_Wednesday 1st September 1971 (Continued)_

After entering Gryffindor Tower, Sirius and James hadn’t wanted to hang around the portrait hole for long - lest McGonagall should enter after them and chastise them for not heading directly to bed. 

Of course, it wasn’t lost on either of them that this was _the first time_ they were inside Gryffindor Tower. They both _marvelled_ at the common-room; a very cozy, circular tower room with crimson silk furnishings, a myriad of interesting, detailed tapestries of chivalrous knights committing noble deeds, squashy arm-chairs and a roaring log fire. The red and gold colour scheme had reminded Sirius vaguely of his Aunt Druella’s prized ‘red drawing room’, the same room he’d been summoned to just that morning - but where that palatial, grandiose room was stuffy and joyless, the Gryffindor common-room was inviting and warm. 

The boys decided together that there’d be plenty of time to explore the common-room more fully in the morning. This decision was made based upon the lurking threat of McGonagall just in the corridor outside, as well as the fact that there were a lot of rowdy upperclassmen hanging around the common-room - it looked mainly like all seventh years celebrating their last “first day” at Hogwarts - and some were starting to look the way Sirius’s Grandfather Arcturus looked after too many brandies; red faced and sweaty. 

Not wanting to linger and draw the attention of any older students, the boys followed McGonagall’s instructions and climbed the stone staircase at the opposite end of the portrait hole. After turning left on the balcony landing, which had oversight into the common-room and the seventh year party below, and after ascending a spiralled, mahogany staircase they found themselves on another smaller, circular landing. There was another spiralled staircase in front of them - but this staircase led both up and down. 

Sirius looked at James in confusion, who shrugged mutely in response. Where were they supposed to go? Up or down?

A sudden rumbling on the staircase they’d just ascended behind them produced an inebriated seventeen year old. The seventh year was strapping and tall - but he was having a hard time staying upright and not stumbling over his robes. He even had to hold onto the wall for a moment to steady himself, and that was when he noticed the two lost-looking first years before him. 

“You boys alright?” 

The seventh year slurred, frowning at both Sirius and James. He had a thick Scottish accent. 

James answered on both of their behalf, 

“Not really. We’re not sure where our dormitory is.”

The boy hiccuped and pointed, 

“First year’s dorms are up just one flight of stairs- Tabby told me-” 

The seventh year spoke authoritatively and as if Sirius knew was supposed to know who ‘Tabby’ was. As James immediately flashed the seventh year a grateful smile, it seemed like James _did_ know who ‘Tabby’ was - and he replied,

“Thanks mate. Appreciate it!”

The seventh year grinned, and hiccupped again, 

“No worries, kid. I would invite you down for a butterbeer, but well-” 

The older boy paused, 

“How old are ya?”

James answered proudly, 

“Eleven. I’ll be twelve in March!”

The seventh year sniggered, 

“Eh, well, maybe it’d better wait til next year. Have a good night lads.”

With a salute, the seventh year strode (unsteadily) forward and stumbled down the spiral staircase, presumably to head towards his own dormitory. James and Sirius looked at each other, giggling at the boy’s obvious drunkenness, then followed in the boy’s footsteps - although they ascended the spiral staircase up one flight of stairs, instead. As they climbed, Sirius asked James curiously, 

“Who’s Tabby?”

James answered excitedly, 

“Tabitha Fawley! She’s Head Girl - I thought I mentioned her on the train? ‘Cause all the Fawley’s have been in Hufflepuff for _centuries_ and stuff apart from Tabby and her younger brother. Their middle sister - Nancy - she's a sixth year, even _she's_ a Hufflepuff. Anyway, they're all my second cousins on my Mum’s side. Her brother Xavier is in fifth year and he’s Seeker in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He’s a _legend._ Everyone reckons he’ll play for England one day. I’ll introduce you to them all tomorrow if we see them at breakfast.”

They had reached another landing and had arrived on the first floor - where the first year’s dormitory was apparently located. Sirius and James glanced at each other briefly, both grinning, before Sirius, without preamble, boldly pushed open the solid, old-looking dormitory door. 

Their dormitory was a large, circular room, much like the other rooms throughout Gryffindor tower, and was decorated in the same welcoming style as the common-room below. The four-poster beds, complete with scarlet hangings and decorated in cardinal red and gold eiderdowns, were flanked on either side by large, diamond-paned windows. A centrally located stove, surrounded by a gauzed fire-guard, revealed orange embers and lit the room in a flickering though comfortable, warm glow. 

Two of the four-posters were occupied already - Peter Pettigrew sat on the bed on the right-hand side of the room, closest to the door, and Remus Lupin sat on the bed next to it. The two boys were already in their pyjamas and had clearly been interrupted mid conversation: Peter looked panicked and Remus looked mildly concerned. 

They both gazed up at Sirius and James, with expectant expressions. Sirius frowned back at them, wondering why they were staring. 

James broke the uncomfortable silence by yelling boisterously, 

“Oh man, you two _already_ picked your beds? Well then - _I bags this one by the door!_ ” 

James then took a running leap and flung himself at the available four-poster on the left-hand side of the door. He flopped down energetically, the bed shuddering somewhat under his weight, looking thrilled with himself and his new surroundings. 

Sirius’s frown grew. The only bed left was the one now wedged between James’s - which was fine - and Lupin’s - which was not. _Great._

He shut the dormitory door behind him with more force than was probably necessary and stalked over to the last available four-poster. He didn’t take a running leap like James had - instead he inspected the bed carefully. For any signs of dirt. 

James was watching Sirius’s skeptical expression from where he was lounging on his own four-poster and guessed loudly, 

“Oooh… are you going to do another cleaning charm?”

Peter suddenly piped up, 

“Um… we’re not supposed to practise magic outside of lessons, are we?”

Sirius removed his wand from his robe pocket and ignored Peter’s squeaked interjection entirely. He then proceeded to flourish his wand, pointed it at his bed and cried-out for the third time that day, 

“ _Scourgify!_ ” 

The crimson hangings and bedding didn’t change colour dramatically - not like the Hogwarts Express seats had done earlier that day - but they did suddenly smell like fresh laundry. Exactly like a field of lavender, as a matter of fact. 

James was the only one who clapped at the use of magic. He even added eagerly, 

“Oi, mate, can you do mine? And can you choose the smell of the soap at all? I like strawberries more than lavender.” 

Sirius grinned. He was about to say he wasn’t sure whether he could control the smell, when he noticed Lupin rolling his eyes from his periphery. His smile faded instantly. 

Instead of replying to James, Sirius turned to glare at Lupin, 

“Is there a problem?”

Lupin stared back at Sirius; it was a mild expression, but Sirius could tell dislike was seething away below the surface. Lupin spoke calmly, 

“Why are you both late to the dormitory? Peter and I had to make excuses for you to Shideh Shafiq. She started to panic.”

Peter interjected yet again, not letting anyone forget he was also there, with another squeak, 

“ _Everyone_ started to panic, not just the Prefects! We thought maybe you fell down a trick stair or got held hostage by a suit of armour or something. Remus and I were thinking about going out to look for you when you came in. Did you both get lost?”

James scoffed and then declared, 

“ _Of course_ we didn’t get lost! We were held up because we had a valiant fight, a _show-down_ really, with a Slytherin and-”

Sirius cut him off with an angry, hissing noise. He shot James a furious warning glance - he definitely _did not_ want to talk about Bellatrix and the earlier incident with anyone else, James included. It was family stuff; it was _private._

Sirius glowered at Lupin, 

“-actually, it’s _none of your business_ why we’re late. Nothing happened. We’re here now. The end.”

Sirius said this all with the ringing, haughty finality his Father sometimes adopted when it was clear there was no room left for questions. However, Lupin didn’t look like he was going to accept Sirius at his word and soon added in a light tone, 

“So… you both got into a fight with a Slytherin. On your _first night_ in the castle…?”

Sirius and James answered Lupin at the same time. James cheerfully replied, 

“ _Yes!_ ”

While Sirius retorted sulkily, 

“ **No.** ”

The two boys looked at each other - James’s face was almost split in-half with that beaming, mischievous grin of his. Sirius scowled in response and threw himself down on his, now very clean, four-poster. Angrily. 

Peter squeaked appreciatively. He was gazing at James in awe, 

“ _Cool!_ Did you win?”

James answered Peter with a suave, cocksure wink, 

“ _Of course._ ”

Lupin replied, again in a mild tone but there was an undercurrent of something else. Something else - like thinly veiled judgement.

“And you weren’t caught?”

James paused. He glanced at Sirius and flashed him a sheepish, although somewhat conspiratorial smirk, 

“Umm-”

Instead of returning James’s smirk, Sirius’s grey eyes had narrowed-in on Lupin. Even though Sirius hadn’t wanted to continue the conversation further, his irritation had gotten the better of him. He couldn’t help but throw out a very spiteful last comment,

“So what? Who _cares?_ Are you some sort of goody-goody? Is that it?”

A coldness entered Lupin’s tone for the first time as he replied to Sirius, 

“No. I just think getting into a fight with a Slytherin on the first night is a bit… reckless.”

Sirius scoffed. He replied viciously, 

“ _Spare me._ ”

Lupin frowned hugely. Without another word, Lupin drew the crimson hangings around his four-poster and was immediately hidden from sight. 

With that, the boy’s conversation came to a screeching end. The terse silence was deafening. 

Sirius kicked his shoes off moodily and sat down heavily on his four-poster. James’s features held an extremely troubled expression and he was staring at Sirius intently. Peter was looking back and forth between James and Sirius rapidly and was twitching with nervous energy. 

James eventually broke the tense quiet by whispering at Sirius. It was clear he was trying his best not to let Lupin overhear him and prolong any awkwardness, 

“Mate… c’mon. That was pretty harsh.”

Sirius deliberately didn’t afford Lupin any luxuries. He knew very well Lupin was listening-in behind his four-posted hangings - so he spoke in an obnoxiously loud voice, 

“What? I want to know I’m not sharing my dorm with a _nark._ ”

Sirius felt petulant and childish, but he _wanted_ Lupin to hear him. 

He didn’t care _a bit_ about avoiding tension for the sake of the dormitory's harmony. He didn’t care that it was the first night that he’d be spending with these boys - boys he’d have to live with for the next seven years. He didn’t care that he’d set out all those hours before when he’d boarded the Hogwarts Express to actually try and make friends, and this was the exact _opposite_ of that. Or that he was going after Lupin for, really, not much of a reason at all, other than he was annoyed and wanted to take it out on someone.

He was irritable and exhausted after the long day. And after the unexpected turn the sorting ceremony had taken, his nerves were _shot_. He was upset that Bella and Andie were so very angry at him. And he was _terrified_ of what would happen when his parents found out he hadn’t been sorted into Slytherin.

All of this worry didn’t make Sirius a pleasant person to be around. He lashed out, adding snappishly, 

“You don’t get it James - Lupin’s had it out for me since the train! I wouldn’t be surprised if he does run off to tell on me to a Prefect at the first available opportunity.” 

James stared at Sirius in shock. He then shook his head and hurriedly stated, 

“There’s no way Remus or Peter or me - _none of us_ are narks, alright? We’re _Gryffindors!_ ”

James continued by gesticulating wildly and with fevered passion, 

“ _All for one and one for all!_ We’re all brave and just and loyal - that’s why the sorting hat sorted us into Gryffindor! And that means we don’t tell on each other. That’s right, isn’t it?”

James wheeled around to gaze expectantly at Peter, who immediately acquiesced to James’s nonverbal plea and nodded furiously in agreement. Peter even cheeped, 

“Gryffindors don’t nark!” 

A smile reappeared on James’s face, 

“Right! So… yeah. We’re _housemates_. And even if we do reckless things, we have each other’s backs. Yeah? So... you and Remus work this out in the morning, alright?”

The look James flashed Sirius was _so_ imploring and _so_ hopeful, that Sirius felt himself run out of steam. He couldn’t find it in him to still be annoyed with Lupin; he just felt very tired. He nodded glumly and sagged back onto his bed, 

“Yeah. Alright.”

James nodded and murmured a satisfied, 

“Good.”

James suddenly clapped his hands together, all angst immediately forgotten, 

“Well then! Seeing as this is my first _ever_ night away from home, let's stay up til midnight eating sweets and not brush our teeth - yeah?”

After _much_ persuading of Sirius, and _little-to-none_ persuading of Peter - the two boys joined James on his four-poster and proceeded to eat their way through Sirius and James’s large combined pile of sweets they’d acquired earlier that day off the trolley. 

Although James had tried, somewhat uncertainly, to knock on the headboard of Remus Lupin’s four-poster and invite him to join in the fun, Lupin’s crimson hangings remained firmly shut throughout the night. 

**\--**

_Thursday 2nd September 1971_

Sirius awoke feeling thoroughly disorientated. 

It took a long time for him to remember where, exactly, he was. He’d never woken up in a room occupied with other people before - it was strangely unnerving to have the first thing he heard when he awoke as Peter Pettigrew’s heavy snoring. He was also used to a House-Elf rousing him gently and politely from slumber; today he was unceremoniously awoken by James Potter throwing a heavy pillow at his head.

Sirius muttered groggily, 

“Mmm? _‘washappening?_ ”

James looked _extremely_ chipper. He was fully dressed in his school robes and Gryffindor colours; he’d even tried to do something about his unruly hair, as it wasn’t sticking out at the back so much. Sirius realised, grouchily, that James must be one of those aggravating “morning people”. 

James sing-songed, 

“Good morning! It’s six o’clock. Time to get up - we’re burning daylight!”

Sirius spluttered, utterly outraged, 

“Six in the _morning?_ " 

James frowned down at Sirius quizzically,

“Uh… of course? We’re hardly allowed to miss the first day of classes and sleep in til dinner time!”

Sirius growled; James was missing the point. Sirius spoke very slowly, 

“Classes don’t start til eight thirty. That’s _two and a half hours away._ ”

James nodded seriously,

“Yeah, Merlin, you’re right. We probably should have gotten up earlier. There’s so much to _do!_ Lupin must have left at the crack of dawn, his bed was empty when I woke up-”

Sirius snarled, 

“You _disrupted_ my sleep, James.”

James frowned again, 

“So? We’ve gotta get up for breakfast! And you promised we’d explore the common-room. And what about finding our way to class?”

It felt like a losing battle; it seemed to Sirius that when James Potter was determined, he was unrelenting. There was nothing left for Sirius to do, really, but surrender. But, as was typical, Sirius refused to go quietly. 

After grumbling loudly into his pillow and then, with tremendous effort, lifting his warm and comfortable eiderdown off of him, Sirius _finally_ sat up in bed. With a crotchety expression - which contrasted brilliantly against James’s joyful and lively grin - Sirius stalked across the dormitory to the adjacent bathroom and slammed the door behind him. 

He bathed and dressed into his uniform quickly. Although the shower had roused him from sleep considerably, it still took several tries before he was able to perfect the Windsor knot of his Gryffindor tie. 

He did a double-take when he saw his reflection in the small, age-speckled mirror above the sink. He looked startling like a portrait that hung in his Father’s study on the second floor of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The portrait was of his namesake - his Great-Grandfather Sirius II - as a Hogwarts student in his youth in the late 19th century. Sirius had always known he wore an ancestor’s face; he had his Great-Grandfather’s name, his features, even his eyes. But there was one significant detail that was deliberately wrong in the mirrored reflection - Sirius II wore a Slytherin tie - and Sirius III wore a Gryffindor one. 

Sirius smoothed down the Gryffindor tie, his reflection mirroring him. He stared - but his thoughtful reverie was broken by a loud thumping on the door, 

“ _Oi!_ Are you finished? Pettigrew couldn’t wait, he said he was going to faint if he didn’t get something to eat.”

Sirius appraised his reflection for one last prolonged moment, then exited into the dormitory. James was waiting for him by the open dormitory door, leaning against the frame and he had a satchel slung over one shoulder. He looked extremely excited.

Before joining James, Sirius strode across the dormitory to his trunk, where his Aunt’s House Elves had (thankfully) already packed Sirius a satchel full of school supplies ahead of time. He mirrored James by slinging the handsome, leather satchel over his shoulder. After a final check in his robe pocket for his wand, the boys descended into the common-room together. 

The common-room looked different in the daylight. Autumnal, golden rays of morning sun were streaming in through the high, stained-glass windows. The roaring-fire from the night before had died but the room somehow felt no less warm. There were no signs that there’d been a raucous party in the room only a few hours before - either the seventh years had cleaned up after themselves or there were a team of House Elves who had risen at dawn to clean the mess. Sirius guessed at the latter. 

Sirius and James spent a good ten minutes or so exploring the common-room - studying the intricate tapestries and portraits of famous, historical Gryffindors. As they were alone, they tried every chair in the room and decided that the two arm chairs on the left-hand side of the cavernous fireplace were their favourites. After James’s stomach rumbled loudly, they decided it was probably best if they made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Remembering the way back to the Great Hall proved to be an adventure in of itself. They missed the turn-off that led them to the Grand Staircase and instead walked through quiet and empty corridor after corridor, seeming to prowl the entire length of the seventh floor - until Sirius remembered that they were supposed to turn _right_ instead of _left_. Once they’d doubled back and found the enormous, central structure of moving staircases, they knew they were headed in the right direction. Although, disaster struck when James got stuck in a trick stair between the second and first floors. That halted them along their journey as they both spent a considerable amount of time trying in vain to hoist James’s leg out, before the stair seemed to decide that it’d had it’s fun and released him - with an accompanying noise that sounded like a spiteful, blown raspberry. 

The staircases and halls were slightly busier now, as seven o’clock approached. Students from every house had started to filter into the Entrance Hall- James and Sirius barged past them all to make their way into the Great Hall. Much like the Gryffindor common-room, the Great Hall looked significantly different in the daylight. For one thing- the ceiling seemed to have _disappeared!_ It was as though the Hall had opened up to the heavens; sunshine bathed the scattered student populace below and the brilliant blue sky above was peppered with fluffy, soft clouds. 

Sirius tugged on James’s robe sleeve and pointed above him, 

“Look! _The roof’s gone!_ ”

James chuckled, 

“Didn’t you notice it last night? It’s bewitched to look like the sky above. Lupin told me.”

Sirius looked puzzled and James continued to tease, 

“Not too observant, are you?”

Sirius sniffed haughtily. He had _had_ a lot on his mind! He’d been worried about battling a Siberian Beast after all - if that didn’t preoccupy one’s thoughts, who knew what would! 

Thinking of Siberian Beast’s, Sirius’s head swivelled - almost automatically - towards the Slytherin table. He scanned the smattering of students and breathed a sigh of relief; neither of his cousins had risen for breakfast yet. He wasn’t really surprised; both of them were like him and weren’t ‘morning people’. Sirius expected they were probably both tucked up in bed still, warm and peaceful, and he sighed forlornly, missing his own comfortable blankets. 

James had followed his line of sight and misread his sigh, 

“Don’t worry mate, I won’t let them harass you. C’mon, let's find Peter. ”

Sirius nodded and smiled weakly, 

“Right…”

Sirius followed James over to the Gryffindor table, where Peter Pettigrew was heartily tucking into a Full English. Peter’s mouth was so full of scrambled eggs and bacon that he couldn’t really vocally communicate - so he waved happily at his roommates instead. Sitting a little way beyond Peter was another first year; Emmeline Vance. She’d scraped her golden ringlets into pig-tails and was very preoccupied by delicately cutting a small plate of strawberries in-half and artfully arranging them in a bowl of porridge. 

James and Sirius sat opposite their housemates and eagerly started to fill up their plates. Emmeline looked up from her porridge and smiled shyly at the newcomers. Her bucked teeth protruded beyond her lips as she greeted, 

“Hullo.”

James grinned, 

“Hiya Em. How was your first night? Did you sleep alright?”

She nodded and glanced at Sirius curiously, 

“Yes, I slept very well, thank you. I don’t think we met yesterday…?”

Sirius paused buttering his toast to state, 

“No, I don’t believe we did. I’m Sirius Black. You’re Emmeline Vance, right? I remember from the sorting.”

It seemed that the mere fact that Sirius had _remembered_ Emmeline’s name from the sorting, made her blush. She giggled nervously, her cheeks growing steadily redder and Sirius, looking thoroughly confused, turned to James for help - who merely shrugged in response. 

Eventually, Emmeline regained enough composure to say, 

“Yes, that’s me.” 

She continued to blush, then blurted suddenly, 

“Um… lovely weather, isn’t it?”

Sirius continued to look perplexed, 

“I suppose…”

James interrupted the awkward moment to laugh, 

“Pettigrew, mate, _slow down_. You’re not eating for England!” 

Peter had tried stuffing three pieces of bacon into his mouth, all at once. He mirrored Emmeline by blushing somewhat at being singled out but he took James’s advice and slowed down his chewing to a more normal, civilised pace. Sirius had to control his lip, which had started to curl at the display of terrible table manners. 

As the time crept slowly towards eight o’clock, the Hall began to fill-up with hungry students and professors alike. Sirius had made a snarky comment about wishing he was still in bed (which had only served to make James laugh), when the owl post arrived. It was a _spectacle_ ; owls of every species and colour imaginable descended upon the Great Hall with a great deal of loud hoots and screeches as they delivered their mail. 

Suddenly feeling as though his stomach had dropped to somewhere around his knees, Sirius scanned the Great Hall’s rafters for his parent’s orange-eyed Eurasian eagle-owl. Euripides was a handsome bird with distinct black markings on its wings and back that Sirius would recognise anywhere. Fortunately, Sirius couldn’t spot the bird - which meant his parents hadn’t learnt of his sorting. _Yet_. 

Sirius wondered what had delayed his cousins writing to them last night…

All of a sudden, a great grey-owl landed smoothly, and with a tidy ruffle of it’s feathers, in front of James. It hooted cheerfully and extended it’s leg, as James eagerly undid the string connecting the owl to an elaborately wrapped parcel. James then voiced appreciatively,

“Thanks Lancelot!” 

Sirius, Peter and Emmeline all stared - and James had to mutter sheepishly, 

“My mum named him. Our old owl was called Guinevere… mum’s a romantic.”

Lancelot the owl hooted again and nipped at James’s fingers affectionately. After having a few glugs of James’s pumpkin juice for sustenance, Lancelot stretched his wings and impressively soared above their heads to take flight into the morning beyond. 

Peter asked James greedily, staring at the parcel, 

“What’d you get?”

James began to tear away the wrappings and was greeted by the sight of five large slabs of toffee, held together by thin, delicate silk ribbons. There was a small note inside, which James quickly pocketed before anyone else could read it. 

“Mummy already sends her love, Potter? It’s only been a day!” 

Marlene McKinnon had arrived at the Gryffindor table and she was grinning widely at James, with a mischievous glint twinkling in her blue eyes. She was flanked on either side by the other two Gryffindor first-year girls - Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald. Lily and Marlene took a seat at the table on either side of Emmeline and Mary sat opposite, right beside Sirius. 

James smirked back at Marlene, adding in a playful tone,

“Don’t be jealous, Marls. I’ll maybe _consider_ thinking about giving you a tiny piece of toffee. _Maybe_. If you let me copy your homework.”

Marlene stuck her tongue out, 

“And here I was, hoping you’d let me copy _yours_. So - do they have any orange juice, or is only pumpkin?”

The girls set about matching the boys by filling up their plates and serving themselves breakfast. There was a pleasant, comfortable silence - only punctuated every so often by the sounds of scraping cutlery and chewing - as all the first years ate together. That was, until Lily Evans asked the group at large, 

“Where’s Remus?”

Peter and James looked at Sirius - who avoided their eyes and continued to munch on the last crust of his toast. He refused to feel bad about his actions and words from the night before (even though his insides did squirm uncomfortably under James and Peter’s scrutiny). 

James, sensing that Sirius wasn’t going to address his pointed look, at length stated a vague, 

“Err - he was gone when we woke up. I guess he’s an early riser.”

Marlene giggled, 

“ _Opposite_ of Mary then!” 

Mary flushed at being singled-out, her lip jutting out in a pout, 

“Hey! It’s the first day. I’ll get into the swing of things eventually.”

Sirius rather sided with Mary and then said as much to the rest of the first years, 

“James here - the maniac - woke Pettigrew and I up at _six o’clock_. Nobody should be awake at that time.”

As everyone fell about laughing, Mary looked horrified and added in sympathy, 

“Lily woke us all up early too. She wanted to quiz us all on chapters one through ten of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One_.”

All the first years laughed, which made Lily Evans fold her arms across her chest peevishly. She looked undeniably _miffed_. She puffed up and stated,

“Well, we have to be _prepared!_ ”

James sniggered and then cat-called, 

“Relax, Evans. I’m sure today and tomorrow are going to be _super_ breezy - introductory classes and all - and then it’s the weekend! Nah - the priority for the rest of this week is to explore the castle, not bother about boring lessons.”

Lily looked scandalised. She was about to retort something back, but she was cut-off mid thought as Robbie Orpington had arrived on the scene. The fifth year Prefect was holding a handful of parchment and started handing the papers around to the first years. He explained, 

“Timetables! Make sure you don’t lose ‘em, as I don’t have many spare. There’s also a small map on the back of Hogwarts layout too, in case you get lost. It’s easily done - trust me! Let me know if you have any questions!”

As Orpington moved down the table to hand out the second-year’s timetables, Sirius and James put their heads together to glance over each other’s identical Gryffindor timetables. 

After a few minutes of studying, Sirius groaned, 

“We have all morning with the Slytherins. Look - _double_ Charms then _double_ Potions…”

James replied in a bracingly positive way, 

“Yes, but look on the bright side - this afternoon we have a period of Herbology and then a _flying lesson_ with the Hufflepuffs!”

James wore that face-splitting grin again, 

“I can’t _wait_ to show you my new Nimbus broomstick. It’s the latest model; the ‘rentals got it for me for my birthday earlier this year. And tomorrow we have double Defence Against the Dark Arts. That’s a good way to end the week, isn’t it? I’ve heard Defence is really fun, lots of practical wandwork.”

Sirius glumly pointed out, 

“Yeah, but we’re with the Slytherins _again_ for Defence…”

Lily Evans interrupted - which Sirius was starting to notice was a habit of hers - and asked Sirius and James with a large frown, 

“What’s wrong with the Slytherins?”

James snorted, 

“What’s _not_ wrong with them? Now that’s a better question.”

Peter giggled appreciatively at James's comment. He'd finished his marathon breakfast now and Sirius had the distinct impression he was forcing himself to interject, just so people wouldn't overlook him and forget he was there, 

“Yeah! James and Sirius have already been defending our Gryffindor honour against the Slytherins - haven’t you! They already got in a fight-”

Marlene was also giggling, though her eyes were round as she stared - mainly at James. She sounded quite impressed as she asked, 

“You two _already_ got into a fight? Is that where you two disappeared to last night?! Everyone was panicked - you should have seen Shafiq! She almost had _kittens_.” 

Sirius glowered at Peter, 

“Would you stop telling _everyone_ , Pettigrew?”

Peter looked sheepish. Lily, however, interrupted again with an accusatory tone, 

“Are you two the reason why Gryffindor is missing house points this morning?”

All at once, all seven of the Gryffindor first years present swivelled their heads to look towards the Entrance Hall - to where the large House Point hourglasses stood, just within eyesight. All of their gazes were fixed on Gryffindor’s hourglass, which was missing several gleaming rubies. 

Emmeline asked in an uncertain voice, 

“Does that mean Gryffindor’s on _negative_ house points?”

Lily answered snappishly, 

“That depends how many these two lost us! I received five points yesterday from Professor McGonagall for- well…” 

Lily prattled off, a hint of pink colouring her cheeks, curiously. She finished curtly, 

“-well, it _doesn’t matter_ what for. Gryffindor was up five points last night before going to bed. And now we’re not!”

James grinned at Sirius and then remarked, somewhat in awe, 

“Wow… McGonagall’s a minx!”

Sirius muttered to James in an undertone, 

“What… do you reckon she gave Evans those points, to cancel out our missing ones? Is she _allowed_ to do that?”

Mary, who’d been listening closely to James and Sirius, quickly asked,

“So, are you admitting it? Did you two lose Gryffindor points?”

James didn’t answer - he simply winked at Mary, proudly. 

There was a general grumble around the first years at this omission. Sirius was quick to defend himself and James - and pointed out, 

“The Slytherins _also_ lost five points - it wasn’t just us!”

James leapt at this, nodding enthusiastically, 

“Yeah! And I’ve already started thinking up a plan on how we can get the snakes to lose _even more_ points…”

Lily huffed loudly and her cutlery clattered down onto her plate in annoyance, 

“ **No!** Just stop it. There’s _nothing wrong_ with the Slytherins. They’re not the “enemy”. You both need to stop acting childish!”

James countered, his voice rising, 

“ _Childish?!_ I was defending our mate Sirius here from-”

Lily snapped, even louder still, 

“I don’t care what the reason was! The fact is, you both lost Gryffindor house points. And you said you were _fighting_. On your first night at school! You both need to stop being… being…”

She grasped for a phrase with enough gravitas,

“ _ **Big-headed, bloody pillocks!**_ ”

All the first years stared at Lily - who’s cheeks were smudged red with aggravation. Without another word, Lily threw her satchel over her shoulder and stomped away from the Gryffindor table and out into the Entrance Hall beyond.

The silence was broken by a nervous, strangled laugh from James. He was tugging at his untidy hair, messing up all the work he’d done to smooth it down that morning, 

“ _Yeesh_. Boy, has she got a temper on her! I guess it’s true what they say about redheads. What’s got her wand in a knot, eh? Why is she taking it _so_ personally?”

Marlene agreed with James and threw out her own giggle, 

“She _does_ seem pretty cheesed off- maybe she’s nervous about classes?”

Mary frowned, 

“Lay off you lot. Lily’s _really_ nice. She's sensitive about people ragging on Slytherin because her best friend was sorted into Slytherin yesterday. She wanted to be in the same house as him and she was a bit sad that they were separated.”

Sirius remembered the encounter on the Hogwarts Express the day before and the greasy-haired boy who’d followed Evans into their carriage. James seemed to remember as well, 

“Ah yes. Her best friend must be _Snivellus_. We have already had the pleasure.” 

James winked at Sirius, who smirked back at him knowingly. Peter sniggered loudly and almost choked on his third helping of scrambled eggs. 

Emmeline was checking her dainty, gold wrist-watch. She exclaimed, 

“Oh _golly!_ It’s almost ten past eight. We’d better get a wriggle on.”

As the first years started to amble to their feet, Emmeline asked the group a follow-up question, 

“Where are we going? Where actually is the Charms classroom?”

Mary was studying her map of Hogwarts, having flipped over her timetable, and she answered knowledgeably, 

“We’re in classroom 2E which, confusingly, is on the third floor. It _should_ be called 3E. But anyway - it's in the Charms corridor, which is just off the grand staircases.”

Emmeline added in a shy way,

"Thanks Mary. Gosh... I am a bit nervous about lessons. Do you think Charms is hard?" 

James replied in a showboating manner, that drew the attention of most older students around them, by crying out boisterously,

“No need to be frightened, noble lady! Us brave Gryffindor knights will protect you! Forward comrades! _Onto battle!_ ” 

The first years let out a chorus of both amused giggles and embarrassed groans. Sirius was beginning to realise that James "acted-out" in order to ease tension - it was pretty clever. And admirable. And made him all the more likeable, in Sirius’s opinion.

While Sirius was sure his fellow first years were probably nervous about their first day of classes, that definitely wasn’t the cause of Sirius’s anxiety. He hadn’t had formal schooling before with the structure and confinements of classrooms and teachers, _sure_ \- but he was mainly anxious about seeing his cousin Andromeda. Especially after the events that had transpired the night before.

The Gryffindor first years together found their way easily enough to the third floor. It seemed like Mary had a pretty good sense of direction - or, at least, knew how to adequately read a map - as she managed to direct them all through the grand staircases and out onto the third floor. The sunlit corridor was teeming with students as eight thirty approached; one side of the corridor was punctuated by high windows which overlooked Hogwarts’ extensive, beautiful grounds and the other side of the hallway was decorated by gleaming suits of armour and ancient portraits. Just outside their classroom 2E was a large, muddy-brown watercolour of a collection of monks - who didn’t look particular pious. Infact, they all looked _drunk_. 

Marlene giggled, pointing, 

“I think they’re sloshed!”

Emmeline replied confused, 

“But it’s eight thirty in the morning?”

Sirius sniggered, 

“I can’t imagine it’s that fun being in a portrait - if I was stuck in one, I know I’d probably be drunk all the time.”

Peter marvelled, 

“ _Wow!_ Do you know what being drunk is like?”

Before Sirius could continue with the charade and maintain his cool; the Slytherin first years arrived outside the classroom. The Slytherins were appraising the group of Gryffindor classmates with a mixture of unbridled disdain and weary apprehension. None of them bothered to say anything to their classmates in greeting - but then again, neither did the Gryffindors. The first years continued to size each other up in silent judgement, as a bell sounded in the corridors which heralded the arrival of their first lesson of the year. 

The classroom door swung open immediately. Tiny, little Professor Flitwick appeared before all the first years and waved them erratically and happily inside, 

“Come in! Come in, first years! Take a seat anywhere you’d like and take out your wands.”

All the Gryffindors gravitated as a collective to the far left-hand side of the room and the Slytherin’s situated themselves together in the row of desks seated opposite. Sirius and James sat together, with Peter claiming a spot on James’s otherside. Before the classroom door shut, Remus Lupin rushed in at the last minute and had to take the last available desk with the Gryffindors next to Marlene McKinnon. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone and kept his head down. 

The only two Slytherin and Gryffindor students to sit together were Lily Evans and Snivellus, the greasy-haired boy Sirius had encountered during the train-ride yesterday. They sat together on the Slytherin side of the classroom and a few of the Slytherins who sat around them raised their eyebrows at this choice arrangement, an arrangement that was clearly bucking the norm. A few of the Slytherin boys were whispering together mutinously and shooting Lily Evans furious looks. 

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and the chattering students quietened down. The professor had to stand on top of a collection of dusty, thick volumes to see over his desk, 

“Welcome first years to your very first Charms class! I must say, I’m _very_ pleased that you are my first lesson of the term - we’re all new to Hogwarts and we’ll be able to muddle our way through, together!” 

Flitwick squeaked excitedly and his Prussian blue robes billowed out exuberantly. He produced an elegant quill and parchment and then stated, 

“First though, I must take attendance as I want to learn all your names, you know! Now… do we have a “ _Vincent Avery_ ” in here? Where are you? Ah, yes, why there you are Mr. Avery.”

As Flitwick continued through his alphabetically arranged roll-call, Sirius noticed that Andromeda was trying her best to catch his eyes. She was seated nearly directly opposite him in the midst of a gaggle of Slytherin girls; Sirius recognised one of the Greengrass twins seated right beside her. Andie at one point even extended her hand out to not-so-subtly wave at Sirius in order to get his attention; but he deliberately looked away and instead stared fixedly at a damp spot on the ceiling, strictly avoiding her gaze. After calling out the last student’s name (“ _Emmeline Vance_ ”), Flitwick clapped his hands together eagerly,

“Now! I thought we’d start with a practical lesson. Just to make things a little bit more fun, eh? Wands out everyone. Today, we’ll be covering a basic Charm - but one that is no less important - and one which every Witch and Wizard should include in their arsenal. The ability to make objects fly!” 

A chorus of impressed noises went around the row of desks and Flitwick tittered, 

“Yes, indeed! We will spend the next hour or so we have together trying to master the Levitation Charm. Now, I don’t expect all of you to master it this morning - but don’t worry, we shall meet again next Tuesday for our follow-up lesson - and I hope by then the majority of you will have made some progress.”

Flitwick pulled a knobbly, long wand out from his robe pocket. It looked _comically_ long really - especially as he had such a tiny stature. He cleared his throat, 

“Now, does everyone have their wand ready? Yes? Excellent. Please copy my movements - it’s a _swish and flick_. It's all in the wrists! There now, you all try it!”

Sirius had pulled out his polished Ebony wand and mirrored Professor Flitwick’s wand-movements. His wand thrummed happily in his hand; almost begging him to say the incantation and perform magic. 

Flitwick continued, 

“And now, to enunciate! _Wingardium Leviosa._ Let’s hear you practise. Go on!”

All the first year’s replied dutifully and in unison, 

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_.”

Flitwick cheered merrily, 

“Excellent, really excellent. Remember to elongate that “O” vowel in _Leviosa!_ And please practise on the feathers each of you have on your desks. Go on then - off you go!”

The room erupted into noise. Chants of _Wingardium Leviosa_ were heard duetously performed from every corner of the room; but to no avail. Everyone’s feathers remained stationary on their respective desks. 

Sirius and James had a few goes of trying the spell each, but gave up shortly thereafter. Sirius was frustrated he hadn’t mastered it instantly; usually magic came very easily to him. It was rare to come across a spell that he didn't pick up immediately. As Flitwick stopped to correct the form of a Slytherin boy with a thuggish-look about him - Nicholas Mulciber, who Sirius had met briefly during the boat ride to the underground harbour - James nudged Sirius and whispered in an undertone, 

“Look over there. Snivellus’s hair is _even greasier_ today than it was yesterday on the train. I didn’t think it was possible… maybe the dungeons don’t have lavatories?”

Sirius followed James’s line of sight across the room to where the boy was seated besides Lily Evans. It was true; the boy's hair, which was still parted unfashionably in dank curtains around his pallid face, looked almost _wet_ , it was so unclean. Sirius couldn’t help but notice that Snivellus - or _Severus_ \- kept shooting furtive glances at Lily; it was as if he couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

Sirius sniggered cruelly, 

“Maybe I should _Scourgify_ his head…”

James chuckled,

“I'll pay you a Sickle if you do! Go on, I dare you…”

Sirius whispered back, 

“Money I’ve got - I’d do _that_ for fun. And also because it hurts my eyes, being forced to look at his hideous, unhygienic hair.”

James had to shove practically his entire fist in his mouth to stop himself laughing outright. He was about to whisper something back to Sirius, when Professor Flitwick arrived in front of their table. The professor asked eagerly,

“How are we going, boys? Any progress?”

Sirius and James both shook their heads. Flitwick looked crestfallen, but his voice still remained unbearably upbeat, 

“Well… keep at it! I’m sure someone will crack it before the end of class!”

As Flitwick moved along the row of desks to inspect Peter’s haphazard wandwork (“ _Pettigrew! It’s a swish and flick, boy, not a **stabbing** motion! Try again for me - and lower your elbow! You’re going to crack Miss MacDonald’s teeth in!_”), James turned back to Sirius and crossed his eyes grotesquely. Sirius sniggered in amusement. 

Just then a gasp went around and everyone stopped their attempts at incantations. Professor Flitwick squeaked in excitement, 

“Fantastic! Look everyone - _Miss Black has mastered the spell!_ ” 

Andromeda was holding her wand confidently aloft and her feather was floating happily several inches above that. The Slytherins around her burst into applause and Andie could barely contain her smug smile. Professor Flitwick clapped cheerfully,

“Really excellent work, Miss Black. 10 points to Slytherin!”

The Slytherins emitted a louder cheer this time. Besides Sirius, James groaned. He whispered under his breath,

"Merlin... now Slytherin are ahead of us with house points. Evans is going to turn our noses blue or something now, isn't she?"

Sirius chuckled. He'd spied Lily Evans from across the room - and she did look incredibly annoyed. She seemed to sense that Sirius was looking at her and she glanced over and positively glowered at both James and Sirius.

James and Sirius couldn't help it - they both felt about laughing, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Wingardium Leviosa scene is one of the best from the movies - I just had to somewhat recreate it here! Thanks for reading. ♡


	7. Sleeping Draught and Ice Mice

_Thursday 2nd September 1971 (Continued)_

The rest of their Charms double period flew by. Andromeda was the only student out of the Slytherin and Gryffindor cohort to master the Levitation Charm by the end of the lesson but it didn’t seem as though Professor Flitwick was entirely disheartened by this fact, as he waved the first years out of the classroom with just as much exuberance as he’d greeted them. Flitwick had set their homework as practising the “swish and flick” wrist movement before they’d all try the Levitation Charm again during their next lesson the following Tuesday. Sirius and James felt as though they’d gotten away with not having to actually _do_ homework and were quite pleased by this outcome. ( _“How’s he going to know if we don’t practise?”_ James had whispered as they’d left the Charms classroom together, mindful of keeping out of Flitwick’s earshot). 

The walk to the dungeons for their double Potions class was largely uneventful; although Sirius did his best to entirely avoid entering into conversation with Andromeda. She’d tried walking beside him a few times in the corridors with a hopeful look on her face, but Sirius made a point of striding brusquely ahead and firmly cementing himself firmly between James and Pettigrew, rather than allowing Andromeda an opportunity to speak to him. 

Sirius knew he and his cousins would have to have a talk at some stage; that this strange silent treatment he was imposing on Andromeda was unfair and immature and certainly couldn’t last forever. But he _really_ didn’t fancy another public confrontation like the stand-off with Bellatrix that had occurred the night before - and it seemed as though Andromeda was on a similar wavelength. Throughout the next two periods of Potions class, Andromeda kept with the Slytherin first years and didn’t glance in Sirius’s direction again. 

Potions class itself was, at least for Sirius, fairly boring. Their teacher was Head of Slytherin House, Professor Slughorn, who was an enormously fat man, with a large, silvery moustache that was reminiscent of a walrus. He was dressed in expensive silk and velvet robes, but the gold buttons on his waist-coat were strained under the effort of concealing his large belly. As soon as the first years chose their partners and work-benches to sit at in the roughly-hewn dungeon classroom and the professor had taken attendance, Slughorn gave an extremely long, laboured and waffling speech about the “exact science” and “subtle art” of potion making. As he droned _on_ and _on_ , Sirius felt his eyes drooping and his mind wandering - how far away was lunch, again?

It seemed only Lily Evans and Snivellus were hanging off every word; the pair had chosen to sit together again at a workstation, right in front of the professor’s desk. Most students were like Sirius and had stopped listening to Slughorn’s speech. The class instead all stared around the dark and mysterious dungeon aimlessly. They’d occasionally wince and shiver as they caught sight of jars of pickled animal parts, eerie bones and slimy mud-like ingredients that emitted a ghoulish glow, which decorated the walls of the dungeon. 

Slughorn seemed to realise at some point in his droning speech that he’d lost the majority of his audience, so he coughed loudly and pointedly. Emmeline Vance, who was seated in the front row beside Remus Lupin and had a dreamy yet vacant expression on her face, jumped noticeably in her seat at the loud noise, which in turn made Slughorn raise his eyebrow in an unimpressed manner. She’d clearly been interrupted mid day-dream. Slughorn continued to speak, 

“Today, class, you shall brew a relatively simple potion - _The Sleeping Draught._ Is anyone able to tell me how _The Sleeping Draught_ differs to _The Draught of the Living Death_ , for a few house points?”

Severus raised his hand in the air. Slughorn nodded at him to proceed, so the boy answered, 

“ _The Sleeping Draught_ causes the drinker to fall into an instantaneous deep sleep, but the effects are temporary and last based on the amount of potion consumed. Whereas, _The Draught of the Living Death_ is an incredibly complicated and difficult potion to brew, as it is much more powerful than _The Sleeping Draught_. It renders the drinker into almost an animated suspension, described by Professor Arsenius Jigger as a ‘deathlike slumber’.”

Professor Slughorn beamed and his bushy moustache quivered with delight, 

“A perfect answer. I really could not have put it better myself! Clearly _someone_ came prepared to class-”

Slughorn shot a pointed look at Emmeline, who he’d clearly not forgiven for drifting off absentmindedly earlier. She, at least, had the good sense to look bashful. Slughorn continued, 

“What shall we say? Fifteen points to Slytherin? I think that’s fair. After all, for such a concise and erudite summary, quoting Jigger himself no less... - _well!_ ” 

Slughorn glanced around the room expectantly, 

“Why aren’t you all writing this all down?!”

All the first years immediately scrambled to find parchment, quills and ink. Sirius start scribbling down his vague recollections of what Snivellus had just said - something about a 'deathlike slumber', which, incidentally, was something Sirius himself planned to do when he got back to his dormitory that evening seeing as James had woken him up at the crack of dawn - when James whispered hurriedly in his ear, 

“We have to do something about the house point situation. Slytherin are already ahead _twenty five points_ this morning! D’ya reckon Slughorn favours them? Fifteen points for that load of _tosh_ Snivellus just spouted hardly seems reasonable-”

But James was cut-off from waxing lyrical about the perceived injustices of Slughorn’s point-awarding system by the professor himself. He commanded, 

“Please pull out your copy of Jigger’s textbook, “Magical Drafts and Potions” and turn to page twenty seven. Half-way down the page, you will see the brewing instructions for _The Sleeping Draught_ there. You will make this potion in pairs - only one cauldron to a workstation. You have 75 minutes to successfully brew this potion, and then I will go around and inspect your work and assign you each a grade. Good luck!” 

With that, there was a flurry of activity as panicked students throughout the length of the dungeon reached for their textbooks. James was quick off the mark, having already leapt to his feet and striding across the dungeon to the potions cupboard to gather ingredients. As James had already managed to load several items up in his arms, Sirius turned his attention to the brewing instructions: 

_1.) Add 4 sprigs of Lavender to the mortar.  
2.) Add 2 measures of Standard Ingredient to the mortar.  
3.) Crush into a creamy paste using the pestle.  
4.) Add 2 blobs of Flobberworm Mucus to your cauldron.  
5.) Add 2 measures of Standard Ingredient to your cauldron.  
6.) Gently heat for 30 seconds.  
7.) Add 3 measures of the crushed mixture to your cauldron.  
8.) Wave your wand.  
9.) Leave to brew and return in 70 minutes (time depends on cauldron).  
10.) Add 2 measures of Standard Ingredient to your cauldron.  
11.) Heat on a high temperature for 1 minute.  
12.) Add 4 Valerian Sprigs to your cauldron.  
13.) Stir 7 times, clockwise.  
14.) Wave your wand to complete the potion._

Within no time at all, James had returned to their workstation - grinning widely - and bearing all the ingredients needed to successfully brew _The Sleeping Draught_. Sirius smiled at him appreciatively, 

“Thanks James.”

James shrugged, setting all the ingredients down on their work surface easily, 

“No sweat. This potion’s a piece of _cake_ \- Dad showed me how to make this ages ago. We’ll ace this class.”

Sirius stared at him, incredibly impressed, and asked curiously, 

“You’ve actually brewed a potion before? This is my first time I’ve even been near a cauldron.”

James grinned, 

“Oh yeah, my Dad’s mad about potions. He reckons every problem in the world can be solved by a potion!” 

Sirius thought privately that James’s Dad was probably mistaken in that comment, but he didn’t say so out loud. Even though it was Sirius's first potions lesson, he already knew this wasn't the subject for him; following instructions precisely hadn't ever been his forte. James had started adding the lavender and standard ingredient into the mortar and pestle and was busy grinding everything in a powdery, fine paste. He continued to work the combination until the consistency turned more creamy than powdery. 

Slughorn was loudly, and probably pointedly, congratulating Severus at the front of the classroom on the Slytherin boy’s ‘erudite’ fifteen house point answer, 

“It was really a _very_ insightful commentary, Severus, I congratulate you. I can tell you have a keen interest in potioneering already!”

Severus replied eagerly, his voice just as oily as his hair,

“I’ve read Jigger’s “Potion Opuscule” more times than I can count, sir. It’s definitely one of my favourite books.”

Slughorn was nearly bursting with excitement, 

“You do know that Arsenius Jigger was the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor here at Hogwarts several decades ago? He’s said to have written "The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts" whilst teaching! He retired in 1890, which was three years before I started as a student here, which was great shame, as I too-”

James made a scathing noise and whispered in Sirius’s ear, 

“Snivellus is getting on my nerves.”

Sirius agreed and whispered back in a muffled undertone,

“Talk about trying _too_ hard…”

The boys - and indeed, the rest of the first years in the dungeon - worked diligently on their Sleeping Draught potion in near silence. James did the bulk of the work; Sirius was left to be responsible for keeping time and keeping an eye on their cauldron’s temperature. At the seventy-five minute mark, James used a pipette to transfer some of their purple-coloured potion to a large, glass bottle, so that Slughorn could assess their work. 

Slughorn prowled the workstations, handing out more critiques and disappointed feedback on the first year’s potions work, than he did praise. Sirius was _very_ relieved he and James had sat together at the start of class; theirs was really the only potion that was actually purple in colour. Everyone else's potions were more of a dark blue in shade - although Rabastan Lestrange and Nicholas Mulciber’s potion was actually verging on the sea-green side of the colour spectrum. 

The only other potion that was purple was Lily and Severus’s. As expected, they received full marks for their efforts and a glowing report from Slughorn. The pair of them donned smug expressions, which made Sirius want to roll his eyes. After Slughorn chastised Mulciber and Lestrange at length (“ _This potion wouldn’t even knock out a hamster! The instructions clearly say two blobs of Flobberworm Mucus - I can see you’ve added half the flask!_ ”), he stopped in front of James and Sirius’s workstation. He looked pleasantly surprised as he picked up their bottle and inspected their potion, by giving the brew a brief sniff. Slughorn marvelled,

“My goodness! This is really excellent work. Truly top notch! What are your names again?”

“James Potter.” James replied obediently. 

“Sirius Black.” Sirius answered hesitantly. 

Slughorn’s moustache quivered in excitement, 

“Merlin’s beard, I’m fortunate enough to have _Fleamont Potter’s son_ under my tutelage this year! As well as a _Black_. I taught your Father and Mother you know, boy. They were both very impressive students in their day. I’ve taught the whole Black family really, come to think of it! Yes, yes…”

Slughorn was now stroking his silvery moustache, deep in concentration as he considered the two boys in front of him, 

“You two shall wait behind for me after class, I need to discuss something with the both of you. As it is, this potion deserves full marks! _Very_ well done to the both of you. Ten out of ten.”

As Slughorn bustled along to the next workstation to mark Marlene and Mary’s indigo concoccution, Sirius made a face at James and whispered,

“Fleamont?”

James chuckled and replied under his breath, 

“Yeah… it’s a bit ridiculous, isn’t it? Dad was nice enough to saddle me with it, too. It’s my middle name.”

Sirius snickered and James countered in good humour, 

“ _Oi!_ All this coming from the bloke named after the “Canine Major” star, or whatever it was you said yesterday that made poor Peter nearly wet his pants…”

Sirius continued to laugh, 

“It’s pronounced _Alpha Canis Majoris_ , actually.”

James giggled, 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, you nonce. Hey… what do you reckon the Professor wants with us after class?”

That brought Sirius up short. He shrugged, totally unsure,

“I dunno… whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t take long. I want lunch.”

James nodded furiously in agreement. 

After Slughorn had awarded all the students their final grades for their first potions assignment, the bell sounded in the corridor which heralded the lunch-time period. The rest of the Gryffindor and Slytherin students exited the dungeon quickly, all eager not to miss a moment of free-time (and good food). 

Sirius and James instead approached Slughorn’s desk. It looked like Lily and Severus had also been asked to stay behind, as they also lingered by the teachers desk; they both flashed looks of the deepest dislike in Sirius and James’s direction. 

Slughorn clapped his hands together happily, 

“Fantastic work today, potioneers! Truly remarkable work, _especially_ for your first class.”

Slughorn’s tone changed somewhat and he instantly became business-like in his demeanour, 

“I wondered if the four of you would do me the honour of joining a small gathering I’m organising in a month or so’s time. You know, just something to celebrate the beginning of the new term, perhaps an exclusive dinner party in my rooms with a few, hand-picked students - what’s say you? Are you interested?”

While Lily and Severus had immediately replied in unison with eager and unabashed “ _Yes please, sir!_ ”, Sirius and James looked at each other doubtfully. They agreed wordlessly, somehow, that they both _should_ probably acquiesce… but that they weren’t particularly happy about the arrangement.

“Count us in, sir.” James replied bracingly. Sirius nodded in an unenthused way. 

Slughorn was nearly beside himself with glee, 

“Marvellous! I shall send invitations in due course. Look for my owl! Now then, run along, so you don’t miss your lunch. I hope the outstanding work continues, you four!”

After dismissing the four of them, James and Sirius practically bolted for the door. As they exited the potions classroom and reached the dungeon corridor beyond, the two of them fell about laughing. 

James was already chattering away as fast as anything, 

“That dinner party sounds like a _right_ bore. How in Merlin’s soggy pants are we going to get out of it?”

Sirius sniggered, 

“I dunno… it might be alright to go and-”

James was staring at him like he’d grown and extra head and Sirius quickly clarified, 

“-hey, let me finish! _And_ \- we go, and we cause some trouble.”

A twinkle entered the corner of James’s eye and Sirius could tell his mind was racing. He giggled, 

“We could put a frog in Slughorn’s hat-”

Sirius joined in excitedly, 

“We could put toe nail clippings in the food-”

“Ew! _Brilliant._ I’ve got a bunch of dungbombs from Zonko’s we could set loose-”

“Why don’t break into Slughorn’s rooms early-”

“-Yes! And we fill his rooms from floor to ceiling with those exploding balloons-”

“- filled with slime!” 

“ _ **No!**_ ” 

The shout came from just behind them. The two boys wheeled around and came face to face with Lily and Severus, who’d followed them up the corridor. From the expression on both of their faces, they’d clearly overheard all the mischief Sirius and James had just plotted for Slughorn’s dinner party.

Lily had been the one to cry out, 

“You two are just being nasty for the sake of it. You just _can’t_ do any of those awful things… besides which, they’re not even funny!”

Sirius scoffed, 

“What? Like _you_ have a sense of humour?”

Severus, who’d remained silent thus far, glared at Sirius, 

“Don’t worry, Lily. They won’t have a chance to actually do any of those things, because they won’t be invited.” 

James retorted with a smirk, 

“So much for being ‘erudite’, Snivellus. In case you missed the last five minutes, we were _just_ invited. Bloke named Slughorn? Maybe you'll recognise him? You were kissing his arse all lesson.”

Severus turned to glare at James, 

“My name is _Severus_. And you won’t be invited because once I tell Professor Slughorn what I just overheard, he will rescind the invitation.”

James acted as though he hadn’t heard the Slytherin boy and instead commented to Sirius, 

“See what I mean about narks? You’d never catch a _Gryffindor_ acting like Snivelly here-”

Lily replied shortly, 

“Oh, for _goodness sake._ Would you stop being such a child! I’ll tell on you myself if you actually plan to go ahead with doing those horrible things-”

James countered, 

“Your funeral, Evans.”

Lily narrowed her eyes at James, 

“Huh? What do you mean? ...Is that a _threat_ , Potter?”

James shrugged, 

“You were on at us at breakfast, like a _wailing banshee_ I might add, about missing house points. Do you really think Slughorn’s just going to just let Sirius and I go scott-free and not try to punish us, if he believes you?”

Lily’s lips fell into a pout. Severus’s voice was thick with irritation, 

“Don’t listen, Lily. He’s just trying to blackmail you-”

James blanched, clearly feigning innocence, 

“ _I’d never!_ ”

Severus continued shirtily, 

“-and they won’t lose house points, because they haven’t _technically_ done any of those nasty things yet, so-”

Sirius growled, 

“Well then leave us alone, would you? We were just _talking._ You teacher’s pets are giving me the start of a migraine-”

Severus glowered, 

“Oh yes, and we wouldn’t want precious Prince Black feeling poorly now, would we?”

Sirius’s eyebrows knitted together. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

A fifth voice joined their squabble. The voice was at once silky and menacing - and one that Sirius would recognise anywhere, 

“It means he’s _jealous_ , cousin.” 

Bellatrix had appeared from the corridor beyond, travelling from somewhere deeper in the dungeons. She seemed to tower over the four bickering first years - looking incredibly lofty and adult in her second-year splendour. She had an enigmatic smile as she purred, 

“Move along, halfblood. I need to speak with my cousin alone.”

Two pink tinges of blush had appeared on Severus’s pallid cheeks. He muttered something in a low voice which Sirius didn’t hear, but whatever it was caused Bellatrix to cackle, 

“Lovely! Oh the vulgarity of plebians _does_ amuse me. But if you don’t move along now, I will have to shrivel your eyelids.”

Severus frowned, clearly understanding the seriousness of Bellatrix’s menaces. But one look between the skinny, insipid first year and Bellatrix Black, who was twirling her wand in a foreboding way between her long, thin fingers, showed that Severus was clearly outmatched and out of his depth. He obviously knew better than to make Bellatrix an advisory; so, he grabbed Lily’s arm and dragged her away. Lily had a deep scowl on her face and as she and Severus walked further up the corridor and away from the scene, Sirius heard her ask Severus, 

“What’s a halfblood? Why did she call you that?”

Bellatrix cackled again, but then noticed that James hadn’t budged an inch and was still standing resolutely firm beside Sirius. She sighed, 

“Sirius? Make this boy leave.”

James addressed Bellatrix instead. He continued to stand shoulder to shoulder with Sirius, 

“Like I said last night - get the _hell_ away from him.”

Bellatrix’s nose flared. Sirius, sensing that the situation was seconds away from escalating into something much, _much_ worse than what had happened the night before, quickly intervened. 

He stood bodily between Bellatrix and James, and turned to face James. He said in a low voice, 

“She’s not going to do anything to me. It’s fine, I promise. It’s just family stuff. I’ll find you at lunch later, yeah?”

James looked incredibly unsure, 

“I dunno mate-”

Sirius tried to pour as much feeling as possible into his voice, 

“Honestly James, it’s _fine._ I’ll come find you later. Really, it’s okay.”

James’s expression continued to look reluctant. It took a very lengthy, drawn-out moment before he sighed and seemed to accept Sirius’s words. 

“Alright. I’ll see you up in the Great Hall.”

As soon as James had wandered, still reluctantly, away further up the corridor towards the upper levels - looking back over his shoulder occasionally to actually make sure Bellatrix wasn’t presently shrivelling Sirius’s eyelids - Bellatrix snorted, 

“What is he? Your shadow?”

Sirius sighed, feeling very tired all of a sudden. He didn't mince words,

“What do you want, Bellatrix?”

Bella, however, continued petulantly, 

“Why is that boy acting so rudely towards me?”

Sirius snorted, 

“Uh, well, you _did_ grab me from behind yesterday and you also threaten to blast him out the way-”

Bellatrix waved away the accusation, 

“You’re exaggerating. It was just a joke-”

Sirius made a face, 

“McGonagall didn’t think it was a joke.”

Bellatrix laughed uproariously. She spoke with a mean, cold edge to her voice, 

“Oh that _stupid_ witch. She’s a muggle-lover. I’ve heard _lots_ of stories about her, trust me-” 

Bellatrix’s mood changed instantly; she stiffened and all wicked laughter was forgotten. Her capriciousness had become second-nature to Sirius though, so he wasn’t surprised when her tone suddenly darkened, 

“-that reminds me of why I’ve come to find you. You’re not going to lunch. I’ve told Andie to meet us on the second floor by that hideous gargoyle statue.”

Sirius frowned in confusion, 

“What? Why?”

Bellatrix grabbed Sirius’s hand, practically crushing it again in her vice-like grip, and pulled him along after her. She called from where she was stomping ahead up the corridor, 

“Because we’re going to go and see Dumbledore. And get your sorting changed.”

Sirius glumly and silently obeyed. He had had a feeling he’d be accosted at some stage that day and he knew by now that resistance against Bellatrix was futile. The corridors were empty as every other student was in the Great Hall, tucking heartily into their well-earned lunch. The cousins climbed the grand staircases quickly and came across the second floor corridor, only ending their journey when they halted in front of a grotesque figure of a gargoyle. 

Andromeda was where Bellatrix had said she’d be, waiting right besides the ugly, stone statute. She looked very nervous. As her sister and cousin approached, she shot Sirius another one of those hopeful sorts of smile - and Sirius suddenly felt incredibly guilty. He’d treated Andromeda wretchedly all morning. It wasn’t like him to be so callous, _especially_ not to Andie, who was his absolute favourite. 

He started, 

“Andie, I’m sorry-”

She interrupted him and seemed to release a breath that she’d been holding, 

“No, no, please don’t. I know you didn’t mean to be dismissive. It’s been a… a _horrible_ twenty-four hours with your sorting going so wrong, so I know you must have been feeling miserable. But don’t worry, Sirius. We won’t leave until this is all resolved and you’re officially moved into Slytherin.”

She then leaned forward and pulled Sirius into a soft hug. Sirius hugged her back. 

He didn’t know what to say. Because, really, despite the strange moment with Lupin the night before… it _hadn’t_ been a horrible twenty-four hours. He had even managed to make a friend in James Potter, someone who was even willing to stand up to Bellatrix, of all people, on his behalf. If Sirius was miserable, it was because he was in agony over what his parents would say and when they would find out. Not because he actually wanted to be in Slytherin.

As the two cousins pulled away from the hug, Sirius quickly asked, 

“You haven’t told my parents, have you?”

Bellatrix nodded and stated somewhat officiously, 

“No. We didn’t think there’d be any sense in upsetting Uncle and Aunty, especially if we can sort it all out before they’d ever have to know.”

Sirius felt a rush of affection towards Bellatrix. In her own way, it was clear she was trying to look out for him. He smiled, 

“Thanks Bella.”

She didn’t smile back, 

“Don’t mention it. Now, I hope this works…”

Bellatrix glanced at the gargoyle and cleared her throat. She spoke in a commanding voice, 

“ _Ice Mice!_ ”

The gargoyle sprung to life and Andromeda uttered a horrified shriek. The sentient stone creature ambled out of the way to reveal a hidden, secret staircase. Bellatrix nodded happily, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. She motioned for the other two to follow her,

“This way.”

The three Blacks strode forward, led confidently by Bellatrix, up the staircase and onto a landing where a solitary, though imposingly-large door stood. Self-assured as always, Bellatrix wasted no time by knocking curtly on the door. A muffled voice from inside instructed, 

“ _Come in!_ ”

As Bellatrix pushed the door open, Sirius caught his first (and certainly not last) glimpse of the Headmaster’s office. 

There was just _so much to look at_ , Sirius didn’t know what to examine first. The enormous, circular tower-room was occupied by a vast array of spindle-legged tables, which housed strange objects that whizzed, or scuttled, or puffed, or croaked. The walls were decorated with hundreds of portraits of old witches and wizards - as Sirius squinted his eyes to read the closest portrait label to him, he realised that these images were of all previous headmasters and headmistresses. Books and quills littered every other available surface; it looked like how Sirius would imagine organised chaos would look. 

And then there was the Headmaster himself. Professor Dumbledore was seated behind an ornate, claw-footed desk; organised chaos personified, in his garishly clashing royal purple and fluro orange robes. 

But, Dumbledore wasn’t alone in his office. 

Sirius’s eyes boggled as he realised his roommate, none other than _Remus Lupin_ , was seated in front of Dumbledore’s desk. 

As Sirius and Remus locked eyes from across the office, Remus’s skin turned a flushed, prickly hot red. He ducked his head almost immediately and stared resolutely at his shoes - which made Sirius all the more curious. Why was Lupin talking to the headmaster? A goodie-goodie like him _surely_ couldn’t already be in trouble? Could he?

Dumbledore interrupted Sirius’s thoughts. The headmaster spoke in a pleasant, welcoming tone of voice, 

“Good afternoon. May I ask why you’re visiting the headmaster’s office during this gloriously sunny lunch hour? Aren’t you all missing your lunch?”

Bellatrix asserted, 

“Lunch can wait. We’ve all come on a family matter. It’s of the _utmost_ importance.”

Dumbledore nodded merrily, 

“Well then, please, go ahead. I have no wish to keep you from your lunch! How may I be of assistance, Miss Black?”

Bellatrix’s eyes landed on Lupin, who Dumbledore hadn’t yet dismissed, and was still seated in front of the headmaster’s desk. Lupin’s head bent even lower, if it were possible - he looked like he wanted to be _anywhere_ else but there. Bellatrix’s lip curled somewhat, clearly irritated that their conversation with the headmaster wasn’t going to be private, but she continued nevertheless, 

“There was a mistake last night with the sorting. Sirius needs to be re-sorted. Into Slytherin.” 

Dumbledore’s light blue eyes came to rest on Sirius for the first time. His gaze was so piercing, _so_ probing, that Sirius felt utterly trapped and rooted to the spot. Sirius couldn’t look away; and he had the most horrible, _strange_ feeling that Dumbledore could somehow read his thoughts…

Dumbledore’s expression remained cheerful, 

“I’m terribly sorry that you’ve all missed lunch and wasted your free time, as I cannot help you.”

There was a tense, stifling beat of silence. That was, until Bellatrix broke it with a snappish, and frankly rather bold, declaration, 

“What do you mean _“can’t”_ help? You’re the headmaster! You can over-turn the hat’s decision-”

Dumbledore held up his hand and Bellatrix stopped talking at once, although she looked almost as apoplectic as she had when she’d grabbed Sirius last night by the scruff of his neck. Dumbledore’s expression remained buoyant, although there was a distinct edge to his tone of voice,

“I’m afraid I cannot help you. Sirius has been sorted into Gryffindor, for reasons both he and the sorting hat are aware of. I cannot overturn the hat’s decision. It has never been done before, not in the entire, thousand year history of Hogwarts.”

Bellatrix wasn’t backing down. Sirius was impressed by her fearlessness. She implored, 

“But surely you can make an exception, just this once-”

Dumbledore cut her off, again with a frightfully cheerful expression, 

“Again, I’m sorry this is not the outcome you were hoping for, but I cannot help you. The matter is closed.”

There was a ringing tone of finality in his voice, as he continued, 

“If that’s all, I would suggest you three hurry down to the Great Hall and you might be able to squeeze in a quick meal before your afternoon classes. I won’t ask how you discovered the gargoyle’s password, but I will ask that the next time you visit my office, you’re admitted after you are _invited_ in. I do like to receive guests - I just would like to know when I am receiving them.”

Sirius shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. Andromeda also looked very embarrassed. Only Bellatrix glared petulantly at the headmaster, unable to conceal her fury. 

Dumbledore continued to smile happily as he waved the three Blacks away, 

“Have a wonderful afternoon!”

Seeing as there was really nothing more that could be done, Bellatrix thundered out of the office and stomped away down the staircase. Sirius and Andromeda followed hurriedly in her wake. As they all entered the second floor corridor together, Bellatrix’s anger burst from her and she screeched, 

“ _‘Can’t’_ help? He _‘can’t’_ help?! More like he **‘won’t’** help!” 

Andromeda muttered, 

“Bella, keep your voice down…”

Bellatrix acted as though she hadn’t heard her sister. She continued to bellow,

“This is ridiculous. If Dumbledore doesn’t want to help us, well fine! We will go _above his head!_ I’ll owl Great-Aunt Cassiopeia, she’s on the board of governors-”

Sirius yelped, 

“But Bella! She’ll tell my parents, won’t she?”

Bellatrix scowled, 

“I’m sorry Sirius, but I can’t protect you from them any longer. They’ll _have_ to know now, seeing as the headmaster is being so resistant. I’ll write to them tonight. They can probably help with contacting the rest of the board of governors, I’m sure they’re all in the same social circle.”

Icy dread filled the pit of Sirius’s stomach and he audibly gulped. He was quite sure of what his Mother would say, but he was more concerned with facing his Father’s intense disapproval… _was_ there a way to come back from this? The outlook seemed rather dire. 

Andromeda, having noticed Sirius’s despondent expression, grabbed Sirius’s hand and squeezed it tight in a gesture of solidarity, 

“It’s alright, Sirius. We will figure this out together.” 

He appreciated her camaraderie, but he wasn’t sure how everything _could_ be “figured out”. Sirius sighed, utterly downcast,

“Thanks… but you heard what Dumbledore said. Nobody’s sorting has been reversed for over a thousand years. I don’t think Great-Aunt Cassiopeia, or any of the board of governors, is going to make much of a difference.”

Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed. She threw a pointed finger at Sirius and accused, 

“You’re giving up!”

Sirius shook his head, 

“No… I-I… it just, it seems like it’s a bit of an uphill battle, and like, maybe, it’s not going to work-”

Bellatrix cut him off viciously, 

“You **want** to be in Gryffindor. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re not even _trying_ to help sort this out!”

Sirius stuttered, feeling very put-upon,

“No! I-I… it’s not like _that_ , Bella, I-”

Bella snarled, 

“Stop lying! _This is all your fault._ You clearly don’t understand how many people are affected by this, Sirius. _Everyone_ in Slytherin is already talking. Everyone in the whole _school_ is talking. You’ve put the whole family in jeopardy and under intense scrutiny, just by being selfish. Everyone is gossiping about us, wondering why the heir isn't following in his family's footsteps. Is that what you wanted? Why couldn’t you just do your duty and fall into line like the rest of us?! Why do you have to be so _different!_ ”

Both Sirius and Andromeda cowered under Bellatrix’s fury. She continued to spit, 

“I’m not going to bend over backwards to help you any longer. If you don’t want to be in Slytherin - that’s just fine! You’re on your _own._ ”

Bellatrix then turned on her heel and thundered away. After her stomps were no longer heard reverberating through the echoing corridor, Andromeda added timidly, 

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean that, Sirius. I’ll talk to her. Tell her to come around…”

Sirius shook his head. He caught his cousin’s eye and pleaded, 

“I really didn’t mean to make such a mess, Andie. I don’t _like_ being different. But I don’t think I belong in Slytherin.”

Andromeda nodded. She seemed to understand. With a gentle voice, she added, 

“You’re not _so_ different, Sirius. At least, not from me.”

She grabbed his hand again - and this time Sirius returned the gesture with a squeeze. Andromeda added sagely, 

“But you’re right. I don’t think you belong in Slytherin. ”

She sighed and said sadly,

"It's a shame we won't be together as much any more. I feel like everything's going to change."

Sirius shook his head defiantly,

"It won't, I promise! I'll still see you all the time in lessons. And it's only different _houses_ , we're still all sleeping under the same castle roof." 

Andromeda nodded, but she looked unsure. Sirius asked quietly,

"I'm not really 'on my own', am I? Bella won't actually... _shun_ me, will she? I don't think I've ever seen her that upset before." 

Andromeda shook her head quickly, and stated in her most reassuring voice,

"You know what Bella's like. She blows up, but then she's remorseful after. I'm sure this will all blow over soon enough."

But even Andromeda, try as she might, couldn't keep the doubt from creeping into her tone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and for continuing to read! :)


End file.
